Serving a New Purpose
by Phantasmaglorya
Summary: When he realizes that he is no match for this human, Lord Boros accepts defeat, planning to train himself until he can repay Saitama with a rematch that will be thrilling for both of them. In the meantime, he just wants to serve the one who bested him, as his cultural upbringing demands. His new master is less than thrilled.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

He should have known when Saitama came crashing back down onto the ship after having just been sent flying into space, looking as unharmed as he had when they had started. The difference in strength should have been clear at that point. However, the sudden wave of rage at finding himself to be the inferior one had led him to attack in a flurry, striking the human with repeated blows from all angles. The following counterattack, too fast for him to even react to, had blasted him backwards and left him wheezing and coughing up blood when he finally skidded to a halt, his organs scrambling to regenerate inside his body.

For just a moment, Boros felt a wave of euphoria from the realization that this was the first time that someone had been able to stand up to him, even damaging him in his strongest form. That feeling quickly turned into disbelief and shock when a series of punches rained down on him, reducing his body to near nothing in the blink of an eye. He could feel death grasp at him, something that was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected. A part of him was overcome with terror at the prospect of dying, while another part of him was thrilled that he was even still capable of experiencing this kind of fear.

It took only a second for him to pull himself back together, to reform his body to what it was before. Everything in him screamed at him to retaliate with every last drop of strength he possessed. To blow Saitama and his entire planet to smithereens and erase humankind from the universe. He could feel the energy crackling at his fingertips and coursing through his entire body, ready to be released at a moment's notice.

He held it back.

The surface of his ship cracked once more beneath his feet as he let himself fall back down. And his opponent kept his distance. He stood still, his eyes never leaving Boros, but his body was relaxed and full of openings. No sign of weariness, of caution, of defense.

It wasn't necessary. They both knew that much. There was nothing Boros could have done to harm him. None of his strikes had done any damage so far and he doubted that even his strongest attack would be able to inflict more than a scratch on this man. On the other hand, it would have been easy for Saitama to kill him at any point during their confrontation, had he actually tried.

Boros released the energy swirling inside of him, letting it evaporate into nothing as he forced his body to morph back into its original form. His mouth formed a grim line as soon as his facial features had taken shape again. His muscles twitched with unspent tension, still eager to fight. But he didn't act on it. It would have been pointless.

The change in the air didn't escape Saitama either. His eyes lost their sharpness as he witnessed his transformation and recognized the harmless form from before. Well… the one that was even more harmless to him.

"I lost," Boros said, more to himself, his voice flat.

His opponent was silent, face devoid of emotion. There was no need to say anything.

Boros recognized the look in Saitama's eyes and he felt sorry. For himself, having conquered so many planets and beating their strongest, only to experience a crushing defeat at the hands of a single enemy who didn't even have to give it his all. One he had sought out for the sole purpose of finding his equal in strength.

But he also felt sorry for said enemy. Because he had been where Saitama was for far too long. This fight had been refreshing. Boros had gone decades without a decent match, always hunting for the one that might pose a challenge, always desperate to find a strong opponent. And he had found him.

He had been able to fight with everything he got. He had gone all out without any restraint. Without having to worry about putting too much power into his attacks and ending the fight after mere seconds. Saitama had reignited the excitement of fighting a strong opponent within him, as well as the joy that came from pushing himself to his limit, if only for a little while. But that alone was more than enough. It was so much more than any other enemy had given him.

And Boros hadn't been able to give him anything in return. He hadn't even posed a challenge. It made him feel insignificant and worthless, two sentiments he hadn't felt in ages.

"I apologize," he said quietly after a moment had passed between them that was only accompanied by the rumbling of the ship as it finally reached damage levels critical enough to crash to the planet's surface.

"Hm? What for?" Saitama asked.

Boros' voice was filled with bitterness. "You didn't get to give it everything you got. Even when you attacked, you held back a large part of your power. You cured me of my boredom while I… I couldn't return the favor."

Saitama stared at him, face still as blank, until he finally shrugged. "Whatever. I didn't really expect anything from this," he said and Boros could tell that it was a lie.

There was a part of Saitama – maybe subconscious, maybe even tiny, but there nonetheless – that was disappointed. That _had_ expected something. Something Boros had been unable to deliver. And he thought, with a heavy feeling in his gut, that Saitama was truly someone to be pitied. If he, Boros, who had never lost a fight in well over twenty years and who had been plagued by unbearable boredom for almost as long, couldn't pose even a hint of a threat… then there might not be a single being in the entire universe who could.

Boros clenched his fists. It was a miserable thought.

"Saitama."

The human looked up from inspecting his singed armor, his mouth opening slightly when he saw Boros' serious expression.

"Should you allow me to live, I will pick up on my training and I shall not stop until I am finally able to pose a challenge to you, so we may both feel the rush of a true battle once more. I am not in any position to make requests, but please accept my proposition and let me stay on this planet with you until the day we may be able to face off as equals."

Boros caught Saitama's eyes, noticing a miniscule shift in them. It was gone in a blink and Boros didn't know what it meant. It was impudent of him to ask this, Boros knew that. To take the initiative like this and propose a course of action for the future despite being the one who had lost. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but hope that the human might accept his suggestion. Both for his own sake and for the human in front of him, in order to possibly repay him one day.

"If that's what you want," Saitama said slowly. "I don't really care if you wanna stay here, as long as you don't destroy anything or kill people." He frowned when he said that. "What you did to City A seriously wasn't cool."

"Of course. I shall not destroy any more of your civilization," Boros said solemnly.

Saitama scratched his head. "Then it's fine by me, I guess."

"Thank you." Boros tipped his head to the side and back, revealing his jugular to express both his gratitude and his submission. When he straightened his posture again, he said, "I cannot promise that I will ever reach your level, but I will try."

Saitama blinked. "Okay."

Boros smiled, closing his eye for a moment. He didn't find the equal he had been promised by the seer. He should have known that it was just a ruse to get him to leave their planet, maybe even an attempt to lure him to his death.

He did, however, find a kindred spirit. Someone who was as lonely with his overwhelming power as Boros had been; no, even more so than him. For invading his planet and wasting his time with a petty challenge, Boros owed the human this much at least. Especially since he was the loser of their battle and Saitama had decided to let him live, obligating Boros to stay with him as his new servant.

He had never entertained the thought of getting into this kind of position. It was usually him who did the conquering of other planets and reigning over the ones he had defeated. He had yet to see whether he was any good at taking the submissive role himself. However, he was willing to learn and put everything he had into it. His new master was strong. Incredibly so. He was someone Boros could respect and follow. Who knew, maybe he would be able to gain the human's appreciation one day.

"Guess I should go back down if we're done here. Genos is probably wondering why this is taking so long."

At Saitama's words, Boros opened his eye again, contemplating his new master. "In that case, I shall come with you."

"Sure," he said with a shrug, rolling his shoulder with the same motion and using the momentum to lean down and punch a hole into the very battered ship. As soon as he had created an opening this way, he hopped through.

With a ping of something like grief at seeing the ship he had captained for so many years in this wrecked condition, Boros followed him inside. Saitama looked left and right down the corridors, scratching his head, and when Boros landed next to him, he turned around to ask, "So, can you show me where the exit is? Your ship has a bit of a confusing layout."

"Of course."

Without hesitation, Boros turned left, making sure that Saitama followed and setting a pace that would ensure his master was only half a step behind him yet could still be considered to walk at his side. He took in the destruction of the ship's interior as they went, as well as the dead bodies of his crew, all of whom had been killed for following him on this quest. He would honor them by keeping all of their names engraved in his memory for the rest of his life.

"Here it is," he finally said, indicating the exit with a sweep of his palm. After he pressed a button on the wall, the ship let out a pained groan as the hatch opened with a stutter, almost falling off its hinges in the process.

"Sweet." With a small smile, Saitama exited the ship first. Boros followed him. The loud voices that had carried through the opening before died down instantly.

"Sensei?"

There was another human approaching quickly… no, it _looked_ like a human, but at closer inspection, its body seemed to be made of metal instead. The unknown creature fixed Boros with a curious glance out of yellow eyes on a black sclera.

"There's another one?" a different voice carried over.

More humans were assembled around the crashed ship, all of them exerting distinct signatures of energy, indicating them to be warriors, though they seemed much weaker than Saitama. One of them raised some sort of club in preparation of a fight, his energy flaring. Multiple others followed suit, adopting battle stances, if a little less eager.

"Sensei, who is that?" The metal creature spoke again, clearly addressing Saitama. Boros' gaze sharpened, taking in its features with more focus now. Saitama had a student? Not surprising, all things considered. They were probably flocking to him. Boros would have to evaluate this students' strength later.

"Oh, that's uh… Beerus. He's the boss of the aliens."

"My name is Boros," he corrected. Had he been so weak that Saitama didn't even remember his name? This was truly shameful. "As he correctly stated, I was the leader of the pirates known as the Dark Matter Thieves. Though I guess this is irrelevant now that there is nothing left of my crew."

"So, you're the last one we need to beat down. Step aside, Baldy, we'll take over from here." The club wielding human came closer, swinging his weapon threateningly and ignoring Saitama's protest at the name.

Boros held up a hand. "There is no need for further battle. I already admitted defeat."

One of the humans – one who had green hair and was much shorter and more petite than the rest – started floating towards him, coming to a stop only a few feet away. Boros made a mental note that this species was capable of developing psychic powers as well. "So, you saw what we did to your crew and now you think you can escape their fate with some empty words? Hmph! I don't think so!" The voice was much higher than those of the others. Considering the difference in stature as well, possibly a female?

As the psychic spoke, Boros could already feel the signature pull of energy tug at him. Now, while Boros didn't exert any kind of special psychic powers himself, he certainly was no stranger to espers. There were entire planets inhabited by them that he had conquered. Geryuganshoop had come from one such planet, after all. Boros didn't particularly enjoy fighting against them, he preferred _real_ combat, but that didn't mean that he was defenseless against them.

He quickly focused his own energy and concentrated it within his body, making it more resistant to psychic attacks. Despite his instant reaction, the blast that had been sent towards him threw him back and his feet skidded across the planet's ragged surface, searching for grip. At least he managed to stop before he was slammed into the wall of his ship. This one was strong.

"Eh, there's really no need to fight," Saitama said, looking between them dispassionately. "He already said he'd stop destroying things."

The esper ignored him, raising a hand now to direct her(?) powers in a more focused way and clenching it tightly. Boros hurried to block most of the waves she sent at him, sticking strictly to defense. Even so, he could feel his limbs and chest constrict painfully until he managed to escape the psychic grasp and leap to the side.

Feeling a bit lost, Boros' eye searched for Saitama, but his master's face was blank and he didn't give out any orders. Maybe it was a test for him to figure out how to solve this situation on his own? A second later, he had to jump out of the way to avoid a large boulder being hurled at him when the esper switched tactics. Evidently, she had realized that he was too well-trained in psychic defense to harm him effectively with direct attacks on his body.

He twisted in mid-air to intercept the blow of the club as the other human rushed at him with a battle cry. The impact sent vibrations all throughout his arm, telling him that this one was a rather strong specimen as well. On top of that, the weapon was made of a hard material. Breaking it could pose a challenge. He would preferably have to disarm the human.

From the corner of his eye, Boros saw his master speaking to his metal student, before he had to twist and contort his body to avoid a series of vicious attacks from a rather frail and already battered looking human whose appearance betrayed the swiftness and finesse behind his blows.

This wasn't working. They would just keep attacking if he stuck to defense. He needed to take them out. So, when he jumped back a greater distance and narrowly avoided a sword in the process, he didn't waste any time and let the energy flow through his body once more, going into battle mode as the veins along his arms began to glow and his skin hardened and turned black. His limiter was still off, so he would have to be careful not to kill his opponents. His master had told him not to cause any more damage after all.

A darker colored human attempting to tackle him from the side was sent flying backwards thanks to a swift hit from his open palm. The man impacted with a slab of concrete in a cloud of dust. A swordfighter met a similar fate as Boros flashed forward, ducked beneath his weapon and kicked him in the side of the head with a twist of his leg.

It was… dull. He hadn't expected much of a fight, it wasn't the point of this in the first place… but going back from fighting at full strength to barely even trying left him with a bit of an empty feeling. This planet's species was strong, in relative terms. However, there was no comparison between these humans and Saitama, he thought as he sidestepped the club that came down on him again.

There was a blur at his right side and he turned his head just in time to see his own arm fly through the air, detached from his body. He could see the second strike coming, darting back in the nick of time.

Momentarily surprised, Boros hurried to create some distance between him and the swordfighter. Since it had been so easy to get past his defenses, Boros hadn't seen him as much of a threat. But he had delivered a swift attack despite his injuries. It seemed like he had underestimated the man.

In his haste to retreat, he didn't notice the club until it struck the back of his head, stopping him abruptly mid-jump and slamming him straight into the ground with bits of debris flying everywhere.

"Finally got ya," he heard the human say in a gruff voice.

Considering the minimal amount of damage the attack had done, the human really shouldn't sound so pleased with himself. Boros got up slowly, using the pause in the fight to assess the situation. The club wielder stood in front of him, weapon resting on his shoulder while the other humans had surrounded him. The swordfighter and the dark-skinned man he had both sent flying before were slowly approaching, but a quick glance told him that they had sustained considerable damage, showing him that most humans appeared to be a lot more fragile than Saitama was.

"Careful," the swordfighter said as he came closer, leveling Boros with a wary glance. There was fresh blood smeared across his chin. "This one packs quite a punch."

"At least he's not as tough as the last one, if he already took this much damage," the one with the club replied.

With his eye narrowed at such arrogance, Boros concentrated on sending energy into his abdomen and down the stump of his arm, both of which regenerated immediately, leaving not a trace of damage. One of the humans swore.

"If you are talking about my general Melzargard, I have to disappoint you. He was strong, and I am certain he fought well, but even at his peak he was no match for me. You, too, have no hope of winning against me."

Before anyone could attack him again – one muscled human with short, dark blonde hair was already ducking into a fighting stance – he continued, "However, there is no need for further battle. As I've said, I already surrendered after suffering defeat at the hands of your leader."

"Our leader?!" he psychic asked quickly, skirting forward in the air in sudden agitation. "Did you meet– Who are you talking about?"

Boros frowned in confusion at the question. "I was defeated by Master Saitama." He gestured at the man who groaned. His student went rigid at his side.

"C'mon, not you too. Stop it with the whole master stuff," Saitama said, rubbing his forehead in what looked like pain.

"Him?" The esper seemed confused for a second before she laughed, wavering in the air. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "Is that what he told you? That's ridiculous! There's no way this guy could be our leader!"

That came as a surprise. Boros' eye widened. "I assumed he was, based on his strength."

Saitama folded his arms in front of his chest, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Nah, I'd make a terrible leader."

"Agreed!" the esper snapped. "And if you think he's the strongest we, have you've got to be pretty pathetic yourself."

Confused, Boros analyzed their energy signatures one more time as they spoke. Could he have misjudged them the first time? No, he had recognized Saitama's potential even before the man had entered his throne room, and there was no doubt that the signatures of these humans were weaker. It was possible that they could suppress their true strength, but– no, during their brief fight just now they hadn't even posed a threat. Which meant… why did this species put individuals in charge who were inferior in strength? It seemed illogical. Unless the armor they wore posed as a limiter as well…

As he contemplated that, he took note of the conversation still surrounding him.

"Don't be so sure of that, Tornado. I have seen Saitama's strength myself. You might have the wrong idea about him," the frail looking human said.

"Hmph! If you think some B-Class nobody is strong, it might say more about your own abilities than it does about his!"

"You have no right to speak about Saitama-sensei like that, you little brat!" the metal student spoke up, looking ready to fight. His voice spoke of fierce loyalty and dedication, making Boros wonder whether he, too, had started out as a servant who had since been acknowledged as a student.

However, with the flick of a wrist and a "Shut up!", the esper, Tornado, sent him flying into the next wall.

"Oi, Genos." Saitama went over to his student, prying him from the stone. "You alright?"

The esper turned back, but Boros was already in front of her, his fist slamming into the shield that was erected at the last second. Tornado directed her psychic powers outwards, but Boros retaliated with his own aura flaring up around him, in part to avoid being torn apart. They were both pushed back by the force of the clash. As they separated, Boros fired a wave of energy balls at her, all of which changed direction to harmlessly land in the surrounding area before they even got close to the esper.

Gritting his teeth, he dodged a punch thrown at him by an unarmored man, skirting around him to get back at the esper that had disrespected Saitama by not just insulting him repeatedly but, even worse, by attacking his student directly. However, Boros' path was blocked again by the swordfighter aiming a swing at his neck.

Dodging would have been a narrow affair but certainly an option. However, Boros didn't stop, intending to take the hit in exchange for a blow that would knock the human out, but that never happened. Before he or his opponent could react, Saitama appeared between them, his face speaking of slight annoyance. Boros' fist had been caught in one hand while the human stared at the shattered remains of his sword with wide eyes. Boros hadn't even seen it break.

"Hey, would you knock it off already? I thought the fighting was over."

Boros took a step back, relaxing his muscles and letting his battle aura dissipate. His skin returned to its normal, light blue color a second later. "I apologize, Master. I merely tried to defend your honor," he said. At the same time, he realized that what he had done had been the opposite of what he meant to do. Whatever it was Saitama had expected of him, Boros had failed so terribly that his master had to step in to stop him.

"Well, don't. It's not necessary. And stop calling me that. I already have a disciple, I don't need another one," Saitama said, releasing his hand from the tight hold.

Boros flexed his fingers, casually healing the sprain he had sustained in one of them. "Disciple?" He cast a quick glance at the metal creature who watched them from the sidelines, looking a bit worse for wear. "I'm afraid you misunderstand. You defeated me in battle, which makes me your servant."

Saitama's eyebrows knit together. "Dude, I don't need a servant."

Boros blinked. He was… dismissed? Just like that? He shook his head. "I apologize again for causing you trouble. As you can imagine, I am not used to the role. I just ask you to give me some time to adjust to my new duties and-"

"No, stop," the human said, raising his arms and crossing them in the form of an X. A gesture Boros found a bit puzzling. "I'm serious, I don't want a servant."

The rejection stung. To be instantly dismissed as inadequate, especially by someone as respectable as Saitama, the first being that managed to surpass him… But his face was serious again, leaving no room for doubt. Boros sighed, closing his eye. "I understand. In that case, may I at least request to receive an honorable death at your hands?"

It was the only way for him to save face. Suffering a bitter defeat only to be denied the possibility of reclaiming his worth… if he walked away from this as a free being without _earning_ it, he would be a disgrace to his race, dragging the name of the Dark Matter Thieves in the dirt. No, it would be better to be executed as someone who was bested by an unrivaled individual in terms of raw strength. It was one of the two honorable options.

Unfortunately, Saitama didn't seem willing to grant his wish. "What the hell, I'm not gonna kill you."

"Then let someone else do the job," a different human with blue hair spoke up, whose gender Boros found difficult to determine. Humans just looked too similar and the differences were rather hard to tell for him, especially when their bodies' anatomy was hidden behind armor. It appeared to be a male from the general shape, but he couldn't be sure. Boros could see the blood of his crew splattered on their rather androgynous face. "I volunteer," they added. Boros itched to kill them, but he held himself back.

"That really isn't necessary," Saitama tried again, moving between them in an instant and, without looking or even facing them, diverted the quick strike of the other human's hand with his own arm when they darted forward to follow through with the suggestion. The effortless gesture that was used to deflect the attack caused them to step back in barely masked surprise.

"Just let him go or something. Doesn't seem like he's trying to destroy any more cities, so it's all good, right?" Saitama looked back at Boros, addressing him directly. "I'm not going to kill you, so just do whatever you want, I don't really care."

"I want to serve you."

He groaned again. "I didn't mean- Look, why are you so stubborn about this? You don't have to turn yourself into a slave."

At first, it had looked like an act of disrespect, signifying that Boros was too weak to be of any use to him. However, it became clear to him now that Saitama genuinely didn't seem to understand why this was so important to him. Maybe their cultural differences were too great? "I come from a race of warriors and conquerors. Walking away from a loss freely is the worst kind of humiliation, while being allowed to serve the one who bested me in combat would be the greatest honor I could receive in this situation. You may think of it as a gesture of mutual respect. It would mean a lot to me if you acknowledged me as an opponent that was worthy enough to keep around and serve under you," Boros explained to emphasize his position. "If you won't allow for that, it would be more merciful to kill me than it is to send me away."

"Ugh, you sure talk a lot," Saitama said, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What about that thing you mentioned before? Didn't you say you want to train or something?" There was frustration in his voice.

"I can hone my skills while I work under your command. After all, my only goal for gaining more power is to repay you with a proper rematch one day."

Saitama dragged the hand up and over his head with a sigh, before he threw both arms in the air. "Fine! Whatever! Have it your way. Just– Don't expect me to give you any… orders or something like that."

A smile tugged at Boros' mouth. Trying to convey all of his heartfelt gratitude with his tone, he said, "Thank you. I will do my absolute best so you won't regret your decision."

"I'm _already_ regretting it."

* * *

**A/N: **I'm crossposting this from my AO3 account, because why not. This isn't going to be an epic plot-heavy story but a bit of light-hearted slice of life stuff for the most part. Feedback, including criticism, is always welcome. I might even consider squeezing in requests, if you have them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Boros frowned as he tugged at the light cloth that covered his arms. No, not just his arms, almost his entire body.

It had taken a while to sort things out. Even after the question of servitude had been answered, the other humans had still disagreed with Saitama's decision of keeping Boros alive. The blue-haired one and Tornado the esper had been particularly vocal and they had been very disrespectful about it, too. They spoke over Saitama as if his choice was irrelevant and Boros had to restrain himself not to attack them.

They had tried to attack _him_ again, however. Multiple times, in fact, over the course of the unnecessarily lengthy discussion. Not that they actually posed a problem to either him or Saitama. Boros didn't even attempt to hide his smile when Saitama apologized for accidentally knocking out someone called Tanktop Master in an attempt to keep the attacking man at bay.

The frail looking human, who was either addressed as Bang or Silverfang, depending on who spoke to him, turned out to be a surprisingly helpful ally to their cause. Eventually, the rest of them had conceded, though none of them had looked very happy with the final decision.

Which was how they ended up with some sort of compromise Saitama had finally agreed to, all the while complaining about how much of a hassle this was. While the humans wouldn't try to start a fight anymore, Boros would have to stay inside some large black building for now, along with his master.

Despite the fact that it towered over the rubble that used to be the city his ship had obliterated, they were led down the stairs into some sort of basement where they were locked in what looked suspiciously like a prison cell, despite their protests that it wasn't. However, Boros had never seen a blank room with heavily reinforced walls and a small grate in the door that wasn't intended to incarcerate someone, even if it did have the luxury of a small bathroom containing a toilet and a sink adjacent to it.

It wasn't like they couldn't have escaped if they had wanted to, but his master didn't raise any complaints, so Boros said and did nothing about it. Well, that wasn't quite true. Saitama _had_ raised one complaint, namely that Boros should put some clothes on. Which he had done once they had been delivered. Although he didn't quite see the point.

They were thin, didn't offer any kind of protection from attacks and didn't seem to serve any purpose. Which was how he realized that the humans didn't necessarily wear clothing only as armor but as… he wasn't sure. Decoration? A way to hide their bodies? But then again, why would _Boros_ be forced to wear it if it was just decoration? And why would humans be ashamed of their bodies? Maybe they were just sensitive to their planet's climate. The temperatures were a bit low, admittedly, but it wasn't nearly cold enough to pose a problem, at least not to Boros. It was also possible that they were used to indicate some sort of alliance. If they were, he couldn't discern any pattern in the colors and forms. The long-sleeved, cream-colored top that felt a little too small for him and the brown legwear he had been provided with matched neither Saitama's nor his student's clothes in any way.

Humans were strange, he decided.

Which didn't make him any more comfortable with the fabric rubbing weirdly against his skin. He had requested for the humans to search the ship for one of his limiters, which they had quickly agreed to do once they learned that it was used to seal a large part of his power. However, he didn't know how fast they would be able to find it in the wreckage, so he would have to make do with these weird, pointless clothes for now.

At least he didn't suffer any negative effects from them, even if they didn't leave his skin much room to breathe due to how tight they were. But with the relatively high amount of oxygen on this planet, cutaneous respiration wasn't strictly necessary and he could just solely rely on his lungs.

With a sigh, he let go of the sleeve and looked up. Saitama was sitting in one of the corners, leaning against the wall behind him and looking around boredly. His student, Genos he had called him, had insisted on coming along and now stood in the middle of the room, right between them. Boros had been able to feel the stare out of yellow eyes on himself the entire time. He had a feeling it wasn't a very friendly stare either.

Genos was another matter he had many questions about, but that could wait a little. For now, there was something else he couldn't figure out.

"They are unaware of your true strength, yes?" he asked Saitama whose head turned to him lazily.

He made a small humming sound in what Boros assumed to be confirmation.

"Why?"

His master just looked at him questioningly, so he elaborated, "Why haven't you shown them what you are capable of until now?"

Saitama let out a long breath, pausing. "It's not like I'm trying to hide it." He shrugged, falling silent.

"I do not understand," Boros admitted. "They were clearly looking down on you, even though you should have a higher standing than all of them."

The man leaned his head against the wall, studying a spot on the ceiling. Boros followed his gaze to see if there was anything noteworthy there, but he couldn't find anything. "I don't really care about all that too much. Until a few weeks ago, I was just doing that whole hero stuff as a hobby. Getting some recognition would be nice, but I'd go out to beat up monsters anyway. At least I don't have to meet a weekly quota anymore. Dunno how Mumen hasn't quit already."

Boros barely understood half of all that. With a frown, he said, "I'm afraid I don't know enough about your planet's hierarchy to follow. Could you give me an explanation?"

Saitama sighed, glancing at his student. "I'm not an expert on this stuff either. Genos, could you…?"

"Of course, Sensei!" the metal creature proclaimed immediately.

Boros was slightly disgusted with what he heard after that. That there was an entire organization that existed almost entirely to protect the human race – something Saitama was clearly more than able to do entirely on his own. And yet… "This means that you are higher ranked than Master Saitama?" he asked the student.

"Yes. I was accepted into the association as an S-Class hero from the start while Sensei is still working his way up from the bottom."

"That's not right," Boros said, scowling. He could tell that Genos had a moderately strong spirit, but he was nothing in comparison to Saitama. "It should have been the other way around."

Genos nodded, his artificial eyes shining a little brighter. Maybe it was just Boros' imagination, but the student seemed a little less hostile than he was before. "I agree. I've offered to file a complaint with the Heroes Association multiple times, but Sensei keeps saying that it's not necessary."

"Because it isn't!" Saitama cut in. "Seriously, just forget about it already. I can beat up monsters just fine even when I'm B-Class. And once I've beaten up enough, they're gonna raise my rank anyway."

Boros was confused about how he could be so nonchalant about it. This was the strongest being he had ever encountered and yet he was satisfied being a low-ranked grunt when he should be the one ruling. If not the planet then at least the organization he was a part of. It didn't make much sense. And, without meaning any disrespect, Boros wasn't happy with the thought of serving someone who didn't have a high standing. He had been the Dominator of the Universe and now he was the subject of some nobody? It didn't feel right. If Saitama ever wanted to take steps to correct the circumstances, Boros would gladly help him with it. Maybe he just needed a little push in the right direction.

Looking back at Genos, he said, "And what are you, if I may ask? You are not human, are you?" He would have assumed him to be a robot of some kind if it hadn't been for the fact that he could clearly feel the energy of a living being in front of him.

The student told him that he was a cyborg and when Boros admitted that he had never heard of the term, he launched into a long explanation about what that meant. Apparently, he had started out as a human before his body was replaced by mechanical parts. It was a strange thought, essentially transferring your brain into a robot's body. Then again, humans didn't seem to have much in the way of regenerative abilities, so Boros assumed it was only natural for them to develop their own methods for restoring a body when it was injured.

He also learned about how the cyborg came to be Saitama's disciple, which was not exactly what he had expected. Well, he could fathom why the cyborg would have wanted to learn from the powerful being that had saved his life. He just didn't understand why Saitama had done such a thing in the first place. If someone wasn't strong enough to defend against a threat or at least find any other way to survive on their own, they weren't fit to live in this universe. It was as simple as that. If the two had been allied before this incident, it might have made sense, but according to what he heard, they had been complete strangers.

Boros wondered whether this was a cultural aspect humans had or whether it was just a trait of his master to save random people. If they had joined this hero organization together, Saitama hadn't been a grunt yet, meaning that he wouldn't have had any obligation to help him at that point in time.

"So, we both fought against Saitama-sensei," the cyborg said, drawing Boros out of his thoughts. Though it didn't seem to be addressed to him, as Genos immediately continued with his eyes fixed on Saitama, "Sensei! Which one of us is stronger?"

"Huh?" Saitama blinked at him, looking like he had just been jolted out of a deep meditation. When his student repeated the question, he tilted his head. "Between the two of you? Boris. He's really strong. Probably the strongest I've fought."

Then why did he still disrespect him by getting his name wrong?

However, before Boros could address the issue, his master added with a hint of a smile, "He even survived a series of my normal punches."

The words themselves sounded like an insult. Surviving a couple of regular punches shouldn't be anything worth mentioning. But the way Saitama said it suggested that it was a genuinely impressive feat. Which, considering that just these few punches had almost obliterated him, it probably was. Genos certainly seemed to think so, judging by the wide-eyed stare.

It served to somewhat mend Boros' shattered pride.

The cyborg quickly recovered, making a weird sound in the back of his throat that was apparently an indicator that he was about to speak. "Becoming a servant to someone who defeated you, is this kind of thing common where you come from?"

"It does happen, but not all the time. Your kind seems to think of it as something negative, but where I grew up, it is seen as more of an honor," he explained. "I used to travel to different planets to conquer them. In the event that I kept their warriors alive to make them my servants, I would be very careful about choosing them. Some ended up being rather useless, so they would perform menial tasks around the ship. However, if they turned out to be an asset, they could rank up. In fact, two of my three strongest generals started out as servants I picked up from the planets I invaded."

"Your generals? As I recall, you referred to the one with the many heads as a general, didn't you?

Boros nodded slowly. "Melzargard. Though he was never a servant but a part of the original crew. We came from the same planet. As a member of a subspecies of my kind, he exhibited similar regenerative powers, but his biology was a bit different." How long had they travelled through space together? It had been so many decades, Boros forgot the exact number. "No, the two I was talking about were called Geryuganshoop and Groribas."

The cyborg frowned. "I do not recall seeing any other aliens fight outside."

"Yes." Boros glanced over at Saitama who returned the look blankly. "I heard that Groribas had been defeated rather quickly by the single intruder that got on the ship. It is safe to say that Geryuganshoop fell at the hands of Master Saitama as well."

Saitama looked thoughtful at that. "Hm. It's possible, I guess."

"Groribas was rather short in stature and he had two more mouths in place of his hands. He was a bit overeager, but he made up for it with a wide array of abilities," he told him. "Geryuganshoop on the other hand was one of the strongest psychics in the entire universe and held the command over the control room."

At that, recognition lit up his master's face. "Oh. The octopus with the pebbles. At least I think he said something about his psychic powers, but I didn't really get what the big deal was. It's not like he did anything amazing." He furrowed his brow. "I don't remember the other one…"

It was almost laughable. They had been some of the strongest warriors the galaxy had brought forth and Saitama had barely acknowledged their existence as he went through them. He hadn't even seen them as obstacles on his way to the throne room.

Shaking his head, Boros turned back to the cyborg. "You were outside when Melzargard fought, weren't you?"

"I was."

"Could you tell me how he died?"

The cyborg looked at him for a long moment, before he nodded his head and granted his wish. As expected, Melzargard had fought valiantly. Surely, he would have taken out at least some of the humans if they hadn't worked as a team against him. Though he couldn't shake the thought that his general may have been too arrogant. If he had just killed them immediately without giving them time to discover his weakness, maybe he would… well, it was no use thinking about this.

He was silent for a while after that. The cyborg continued watching him while Boros contemplated the situation he was in some more. He had a lot more questions, but his master seemed to have gone back to his meditation and Boros didn't want to disturb him. Maybe it was an important aspect of his training routine. Which raised the question what his training even looked like in general. Having a sparring partner seemed near impossible for him. Especially since he didn't appear to be wearing a limiter outside of battle either. Or maybe he just didn't have the opportunity to put it back on, because they had been herded into this prison cell immediately. Boros was certainly curious. After all, it was quite likely that he would be able to learn something from him that he could incorporate into his own training.

He didn't know how much time passed until approaching footsteps announced the three visitors that entered the cell once the door swung open quietly. Leading them was a very short human. He considered that it might be a female, but their body shape differed from the esper's. Where she was strangely curvy, this one looked less defined. Maybe the height indicated that it was still young? Come to think of it, the same one had been present during the discussion in front of his ship, though Boros hadn't taken much note of them. But why would a pup be associated with this Hero Association? Even if humans were a warrior race, surely they wouldn't send a pup that looked as weak as this one into battle?

The presumed pup was followed by Bang/Silverfang. The one who had spoken in Saitama's favor. And the one who had played a big role in killing Melzargard. He was carrying a tray with three plates of steaming… food, Boros assumed, though the weird, multi-colored mush didn't look very appetizing.

The last one to enter was the blue-haired human who had been a great nuisance before. Their eyes rested on Saitama for a long moment, before they fixed themselves on Boros instead. The murderous intent in them was clear.

"Finally," his master said with a sigh as soon as they had entered. "Can we leave now? It's kinda boring in here."

The blue-haired human snorted.

"I'm afraid we need to ask you to stay a little longer," Bang/Silverfang said, which caused Saitama to grimace. "We've brought you some food for now."

"Ah. Thanks, old man," Saitama replied as his student went to take the tray.

So he was old. That could explain why he looked so frail.

While this was going on, the pup had raised a strange mask with eight eyes painted on it and looked through it. First at Boros, then at his master, then at his blue-haired companion. When they lowered it again, they were frowning, looking down at the mask thoughtfully. "While you're here, I wanted to ask you to help me with some tests," they said, head raising again.

"Tests?" Saitama asked. "Do you want us to help with some school project? Come to think of it, aren't you a bit too young to be here?"

The pup looked annoyed at that. "It's not a school project but important scientific research."

"Sensei," Genos said quickly. "This is Child Emperor, he's an S-Class hero, Rank 5."

Boros bristled. This mere toddler was higher ranked than Saitama? Granted, he had a rather impressive aura for someone so small and his name suggested a royal heritage, but this was preposterous. What was this Hero Association doing?!

"Oh, I wouldn't have guessed."

"We were both at the S-Class meeting, if you didn't notice!" the pup snapped. Then, with a sigh and a scowl, he shook his head. "Whatever," he said, looking between Boros and Saitama. "I'd like to take a blood sample from you two, if that's alright with you."

Saitama shrugged. "Dunno why you'd want our blood, but it's fine by me."

When the pup then stared at Boros expectantly, he swallowed his outrage and said, "If Master Saitama decided to help you, I will follow his example." He couldn't quite keep the hostility from entering his voice.

The pup gave him another contemplative look, then he nodded and approached him. A moment later, the bag he was carrying on his back opened and a mechanical arm emerged, a syringe attached at the end. Boros noticed that the blue-haired human moved closer as well, staring at him with narrowed eyes all the while. What, did they still think he would act against his direct orders and start attacking humans?

When the pup had come close enough that the mechanical contraption could reach him, Boros held out his arm and Child Emperor hesitated, scratching his head. "Uhm, how exactly should I…?"

"If you want to draw blood, you should avoid the veins on my skin," Boros said.

The pup sighed. "Maybe you could do it yourself?" he suggested, moving the syringe closer. Another mechanical arm emerged from his bag, holding out what looked like a strap.

Boros stared at it, trying to figure out what it meant and coming up blank. "What is this for?"

"Oh, uhm… for binding off your arm?"

Was this another human thing? "I don't think that will be necessary," he said, taking the arm and directing it to his wrist where he inserted the needle in the skin until it reached his bloodstream. Child Emperor let out a curious "Huh" when the dark red liquid started flowing into the container.

"Thank you," he said once it had been sufficiently filled and the arm returned the syringe so the pup could store it in his bag as well as switch it for a fresh one. When Boros nodded, the pup walked over to Saitama. Interestingly, before he attempted to draw the blood, he rolled up the sleeve of his yellow cloth all the way up to his shoulder and the strap was swiftly wrapped around his upper arm. Saitama went along with it, making a fist and holding his arm wrist-up.

However, instead of the wrist, the syringe went for the inside of his elbow. Strange.

A moment passed until Saitama looked up in confusion. "You can go ahead, you know?"

Boros moved closer to see what was going on. Child Emperor had his eyebrows drawn together, biting his lip. "I'm trying. It won't go in."

Indeed, the needle was touching the arm but it didn't pierce the skin.

"Oh. Yeah, I didn't think of that."

The pup's head snapped up. "You didn't think of that?" he repeated, clearly incredulous.

Saitama tilted his head to the side. "The last time I had to give a blood sample was before I started my training, so I didn't realize it wouldn't work anymore."

Child Emperor stared at him. Then, just as he opened his mouth to answer, there was a sudden jerk in the contraption as the needle broke off.

"Ah. Sorry 'bout that."

The boy continued to stare.

"You mean to tell me," the blue-haired human spoke up now, coming closer, "what, that you skin is too tough to be pierced?"

"I guess?" Saitama said with a shrug.

The other human clearly didn't like that answer. "That's ridiculous."

"Is that what you usually do? If you come across something you don't understand you just dismiss it as untrue?" Genos stepped in. His facial expression hadn't changed, but his tone was sharp with contempt.

The other human turned to him, giving him a murderous look. The two held eye contact for a long moment, neither backing down.

"I could bite my tongue to draw blood, if that helps?" Saitama suggested, completely ignoring whatever silent battle his student was currently engaged in.

"No, that's…" Child Emperor broke off, shaking his head. "That won't be necessary, we'll think of something." He took a step back, fixing Saitama with another long look. After a moment of contemplative silence, he asked hesitantly, "You said you didn't sustain any injuries from the fight, correct?"

"Yeah."

The pup glanced at Boros for a second, before he continued asking, "When was the last time you were injured?"

Saitama thought hard about this one, staring into space with his brows furrowed in concentration. The other humans waited in eager anticipation. Finally, his eyes widened. "Oh, I know. It must've been shortly before I met Genos. There were these Sub–" He trailed off suddenly, his eyes dulling.

"Yes?" the pup urged him.

Saitama shook his head. "Never mind, that was in a dream. I don't remember." He drooped against the wall. "Must've been back when I was still training, then."

"When was that?"

"No idea. Two years ago?"

The look in Child Emperor's eyes was intense. When Saitama didn't give an indication that he had anything else to say, the pup turned around and walked off, the mechanical arms retreating into the bag as he did. When he reached Boros, he stopped briefly. "I'm not sure when we'll find your limiter. Metal Knight is currently searching the ship, he'll notify us when it turns up."

Boros had no idea who Metal Knight was, but he nodded anyway. Perhaps another cyborg or a robot this time?

Not wasting any more time, the pup left the room. The blue-haired human followed him after another condescending look at Genos.

"We'll bring you some futons in a bit, so you can get some rest," the old man said once they were gone.

Saitama reacted with a groan. "Aw man, we have to stay here for the night?"

The old man paused, looking apologetic. "I'm afraid there are still things we need to sort out. I'm asking you to be a little patient, Saitama."

Saitama huffed. "You could've at least given us a room with a TV or something."

"Bang, could you at least give us an estimate how long this might take? I could use some repairs," Genos added. He was probably referring to the arm that had been ripped clean off by Saitama on accident, leaving its inner mechanical workings hanging from his shoulder stump.

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell. However, you can leave if you want, Genos. We are not keeping you here. We only request that Saitama and," the man paused, glancing at him briefly from the corner of his eyes, "Boros stay here for the time being. We cannot let a Dragon-level threat run around freely and since it seems like he decided to follow Saitama around, it would be best to keep them both at the Hero Association's headquarters until we've sorted out everything else."

He was considered a Dragon-level threat, then? Boros didn't know what that meant exactly, but it certainly sounded impressive.

Meanwhile, the cyborg shook his head. "No, I'm staying."

The old man smiled. "I expected as much. There is not much else I can do for you, but I will see whether we can reach a solution as soon as possible."

"Thank you," the cyborg said.

Bang – Boros decided to go with the name Saitama's student used – just nodded and left them alone again.

Once the heavy door had fallen shut and locked with a loud mechanical whirr and the footsteps weren't audible anymore, Boros turned to Saitama with the question that he couldn't seem to answer. "Master Saitama, could you–"

"Okay, stop calling me that. It's annoying," his master interrupted. "Just call me Saitama like a normal person."

Boros paused, conflicted. On one hand, he couldn't just talk to his master without addressing him properly. On the other hand, wouldn't it be more disrespectful to go against his wishes? With a long exhale, he nodded. "As you wish, Saitama. I was wondering if you could tell me whether the blue-haired human is a male or a female."

Saitama stared at him for a moment, before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards and he snorted. It then grew into soft snickers, his eyes crinkling and his small, blunt teeth showing. A bit puzzled by the reaction, Boros glanced at the cyborg, who had a tiny smile on his face as well. His eyes had gone completely dark.

Were they… making fun of him? Boros waited, a little offended.

"Dude, you really can't tell?" Saitama asked, calming down a bit.

"This is the first time I have ever interacted with your kind and there are certain biological differences between humans and the other races I have conquered so far," he said, a little more defensively than intended. "The members of your species look very similar and I find it hard to tell the difference."

Saitama waved his hand, still chuckling. "Fair enough. It's still funny. But yeah, he's a guy. What's his name again? Sugar– No, uh… Syrup Face." Then he sighed, adding, "Man, I could go for some pancakes right now." He eyed the tray Genos still held in his intact arm.

His student took that as a cue to start distributing the dishes.

"I see. Thank you for clarifying," Boros said.

Saitama just grinned, taking the plate that was handed to him by the cyborg a moment later. "No problem."

As he watched Saitama starting to shovel food into his mouth and Boros accepted his own plate of food, he thought that humans truly looked strange when they laughed. Strange in a fascinating way. They had very expressive faces, what with all the little details and wrinkles. Even if it had been at his expense this time, he could admit that it was actually kind of interesting to watch.

Finally averting his eyes from his master to look down at his own plate, he decided that human food was… interesting as well, though he couldn't tell whether that was a good or bad thing. It was a blob of many small bits, none of which he could identify. Most of them were white, but there was also yellow, green and red. It looked a little suspicious, but Saitama and his student were eating it, so it was probably a normal dish. Whether it was edible or not… he'd have to try it.

However, there was a problem with that. They hadn't been given any eating utensils. Just a wooden stick. Puzzled, he looked up again and saw both of the others holding two of them. No, wait, there was a small indentation in his stick, so they had probably broken it in two. After sitting down and setting the plate beside him, he tried to do the same. The fragile stick broke into three pieces between his fingers.

Saitama looked up at the sound of snapping wood. "You need help with that?"

Technically, yes. However, needing help with a menial task like eating would be humiliating, so he just huffed and replied, "No, it's fine."

He had seen them hold the sticks in a parallel line to pick up the food with, so he picked the two biggest remains of the sticks and tried to mimic them. It was a lot more difficult than it looked like. The food slipped between the sticks or the sticks slipped between his hands and everything ended up falling back on the plate.

He heard Saitama snort again in the background and, rude or not, pointedly ignored him. He could do this. He didn't earn himself the title of the Dominator of the Universe only to surrender to a plate of food.

It took him longer than he cared to admit and he knew that his technique was probably all wrong, but he eventually managed to find a way to pick up small amounts of food with the sticks and awkwardly balance them to his mouth, carefully not biting through his eating utensils. He managed to eat about half of it until he felt he had enough and put the plate down. Not just because it was frustrating to eat like this but also because the food itself was so foreign.

It tasted so unlike anything he had eaten before that he couldn't even try to describe the taste. It wasn't… unsavory, exactly. Though whether he would be able to get used to it was a different question. And the texture was way too grainy for his liking. All the little bits got stuck between his sharp teeth, which resulted in him trying to clean them with his tongue as best as he could for quite a while afterwards. He just hoped his stomach would be able to handle the unfamiliar source of nourishment.

It didn't take too long until they got visitors again, though this time, it was the swordfighter from outside, leading two humans Boros hadn't seen before. One of them had a rugged appearance, his dark hair pulled up into a messy ponytail on top of his head, similar to but not as tidy as the swordfighter's. The other one was a female with a painted face.

After Syrup Face turned out to be a man, Boros had acknowledged the possibility that female humans might generally be much shorter than the males, considering that the only female he had seen had been roughly the same size as a male pup. But this one was of a similar height as the males, so that theory was disproven. Interestingly, she had flowing legwear instead of pants, kind of like that Tornado esper, but this garment wasn't cut into multiple strips. Maybe the way they dressed was used as an indicator for gender.

They were each carrying a bundle of cloth and Boros watched them curiously. The female looked at him in return, her cheeks becoming somehow even redder under the bright spots on her face. What a strange action. If it was a way to communicate, Boros had no idea what it meant.

"Saitama," the swordfighter said after only a passing glance at Boros. When Saitama looked up at the visitors, the swordfighter placed the bundle down on the floor beside him. The two humans accompanying him, clearly his servants, followed his example. "I wanted to speak to you, so I volunteered to bring you the futons."

"Oh. Thanks." Then, after a small pause, Saitama added, "So, who're you?"

The male follower gave him a withering glance, while the female tried to catch Boros' eye again. Not wanting to associate with these servants, he ignored her.

"Sensei, that's–" Genos began, but the swordfighter cut him off.

"I'm Atomic Samurai, S-Class, Rank 4." Boros recalled the name as another one of the fighters who had defeated Melzargard. When Saitama didn't show any signs of recognition, one of the man's eyebrows twitched. "You broke my sword."

"Ohh…" Saitama shifted and stood up after a moment. "Right. Sorry. I don't really have the money to repay you, but maybe we can glue–"

"That won't be necessary. I didn't come to ask for compensation."

This man was terribly rude. If Boros didn't think his master would disapprove, he would just kick him out of the door this time.

As it was, his master didn't seem bothered that both he and his disciple were interrupted. "Eh? Why are you here then?"

"I'm here to issue a challenge," the man declared.

Saitama blinked. "You wanna fight me?"

"You broke my sword," he repeated. "I want to know whether it was a fluke or whether you are really as strong as Bang says you are. Unfortunately, the Hero Association insists that we're not allowed to fight in here, so our match will have to wait until you are allowed to go out."

"Uh… I still don't see how that's a reason for us to fight…"

Atomic Samurai ignored what he said in favor of reaching into his clothes and pulling out something red and round. "Since I can't measure your physical strength right now, this simple test will have to suffice." He stepped forward, placing the red thing down in front of Saitama. Then he reached for the sword at his hip and handed it to him, scabbard included.

Saitama took it with a raised eyebrow.

"I want to you cut this apple with the sword."

"Why?"

"It will tell me about your lifestyle and technique."

Saitama looked down at the object, shrugged and pulled the sword out of its sheath. Then he plopped down on the ground again, picked up the object, holding it in one hand while he cut it with the sword held in his other. Once it was neatly parted in the middle, he placed down one half (it was a pale yellow on the inside) and cut the remaining half through the middle once more. Again setting down one of the halves, he went on to remove a part that was originally in the center of the whole thing that had many black dots in it. When that was done, he started to peel the red exterior off. Until the rugged-looking servant, who had started twitching during the process, started to yell at him, that is.

"What are you doing?! You can't use a katana like a kitchen knife!"

The nerve of this man! Boros caught himself at the last moment when he realized that he was about to switch into his released battle form.

Saitama just looked up at him with confusion painted across his face and pointed at Atomic Samurai. "Huh? But _he_ told me to cut the apple, didn't he?"

The man opened his mouth to answer, but the samurai _finally_ reprimanded his undisciplined servant with a quick, "Bushidrill, that's enough."

The servant stood back with visible restraint, scowling at Saitama.

The S-Class hero instead went over to Saitama, squatting beside him and staring at his hands.

"Uhm… you want that back?" Saitama asked, holding out the sword.

Atomic Samurai looked at it for a moment before he took it, sheathed it and strapped it back around his waist as he straightened up. "Thank you. I will be taking those as well," he said, pointing at the pieces of the apple strewn on the ground.

"Okay," Saitama said, handing him the one still in his hand. Atomic Samurai accepted it with a pensive look on his face.

"Master?" Bushidrill asked hesitantly.

The samurai snapped out of his thoughts, nodding at his followers. "What're you waiting for? Pick them up."

"Yes, Master!" they said, the female a little belatedly as she tore her gaze off Boros. They scrambled to follow the order.

Once they were done, Atomic Samurai turned with a dramatic swish of his coat and walked to the exit. "Come on. I'll need to examine the pieces and think about what this means."

The male followed behind him immediately, while the female lingered for a moment to give Boros a smile. However, after a sharp "Okama!" from her master, she hurried to catch up with them and closed the door behind her.

"Huh," Saitama said, once they were gone, turning around to his disciple. "Do you know what that was all about?"

The cyborg hesitated. "I'm not sure, Sensei. I heard there were types of divination that involve reading from the innards of animals, like fish, but I've never heard about them using apples…"

Saitama made an annoyed sound in his throat. "Not another prophecy. I'm getting kinda sick of those." Then his eyes fell on the bundles the visitors had left in their cell. "Let's just go to sleep for now. I'm a bit tired. We can think about that other stuff later."

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you all so much, I honestly did not expect that much feedback. I just hope you don't take this story too seriously. I started it pretty much on a whim and it's all just some light-hearted, completely self-indulgent fun for me. I have yet to decide whether I should add romance or not, because I'm not sure if I can pull it off. Though in either case, there won't be any smut, just so you know.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A futon was something entirely strange to Boros. Lying on one to rest turned out to be a very uncomfortable affair. It was so different from the sleeping pods in his ship. It wasn't even form-fitting. He just ended up lying flat on the ground as if there was barely any bedding at all. He could even feel the hard stone floor even through the soft, plushy material. And there was more fabric again. (Humans apparently loved covering themselves with the material. Maybe that was the reason for the clothes.)

It was such an unfamiliar position that he had trouble falling asleep. Saitama didn't have the same issue. He could hear how his breathing evened out quickly from across the room. Genos on the other hand… Boros was sure that the cyborg was still watching him. When Saitama had offered him a futon, his student hat declined, opting to sit propped up against the wall instead. He had said that he was going to go into standby, whatever that entailed, and his eyes had dimmed a little, but the faint yellow spots were still firmly fixed on Boros.

It was a commitment that was entirely misplaced. Boros could guess that Genos wanted to keep an eye on him while his teacher slept because he didn't trust him. However, if the cyborg thought he could subdue him if needed, he was naïve. Even if he had both of his arms, Genos wouldn't be able to touch him. And if he thought Saitama needed him for protection in the first place, he was insulting the man. Either way, it was foolish.

Boros scoffed to himself and turned his head back to look at the ceiling. He still didn't see why Genos had been accepted as a student. So far, he saw no merit in him. Maybe he would have to ask Saitama directly.

For now, he tried to sleep again, so he closed his eye and laid still, listening to the constant soft sounds the cyborg's body gave off that he hadn't noticed before as well as the funny noises his master produced periodically in his sleep. (He had been a little startled by those at first.)

Sleep still evaded him for the most part. A couple of times he woke up, realizing that he had dozed off a little, but it never lasted long and he didn't feel particularly rested when Saitama finally stirred, declaring it to be a good morning. Boros was just relieved that the night was over and to be able to leave the uncomfortable bed.

Unfortunately, the day seemed to pass just as slowly. They received breakfast at some point, which consisted of more weird human food. At least they didn't have to bother with the sticks again for the light brown squares with the differently colored toppings. When the other two picked them up from their plates to eat using their hands, Boros was glad to do the same.

They still weren't allowed to leave, which didn't improve anyone's mood. Boros tried to at least learn more about his master, only to receive the answer that there was "nothing to say" and that he was "just a regular guy". When Boros pointed out that he was unfamiliar with humans and didn't know what was normal in their eyes, he found out that Saitama liked couponing and reading manga, which would have been a good start if he had known what either of those things meant. As it was, it turned out to be absolutely useless information to him, so he gave up on asking for now. He would have to learn by seeing it once they got out. Whenever that would be.

Boros didn't understand why Saitama just put up with this kind of treatment. He had the power to make them all do his bidding, so why didn't he? Boros wanted to destroy this prison, find these so-called S-Class heroes and show them that disrespecting his master led to a world of suffering. If only said master didn't seem to think that was a bad idea, for reasons Boros couldn't imagine. It was frustrating not being allowed to do anything. Especially when Saitama complained about being bored multiple times.

At some point, Saitama asked his student to talk about anything at all and the cyborg complied and filled the silence with nonstop monologues, mostly about some planned upgrades to his mechanical body he may as well get when he went to get his arm repaired, and while he was there it would be a good idea to get a thorough check-up as well, because he had gotten some error messages telling him that there were probably other broken components–

Boros tuned him out after a while, especially when he started getting more technical. This was a topic he didn't know anything about. Some of his ship engineers may have eagerly asked questions about earthly technology, but he wasn't interested in it personally. He wasn't much of a builder himself. His forte was destruction. Though he was a little impressed that his master was knowledgeable enough to follow all these explanations.

Thankfully, the pup came back at some point, carrying a round, flat object on a stick that appeared to be food judging by the way he occasionally licked at it. He was again accompanied by a very hostile looking Syrup Face. It wasn't the most pleasant company, but at least his master seemed to be a little more upbeat when they arrived. This time, their purpose was clear the second they stepped into the room. Boros' armor was dangling from one of those long mechanical arms Child Emperor could control. Boros eyed it with anticipation.

As soon as they arrived, Genos got up from the floor and approached them. "I would like to leave for a while. Will I be able to get back inside when I return later?"

Child Emperor looked up at him. "That shouldn't be a problem. I guess Amai Mask can–"

"I won't stay at headquarters for much longer. Unlike some people who can afford to sit by idly for days, I have other duties I need to attend to," the man interrupted the pup.

Genos returned the scathing look he received just as darkly, while Boros puzzled over the fact that the human had responded to a different name than the one he had been referred to by Saitama. Now, there were two possibilities. Either the man had two different names, like the old man Bang, or his master had used a wrong name, as he had done with Boros a few times already. Would Genos have corrected him if that was the case?

Frowning at the antics of his colleagues, Child Emperor sighed and said, "Okay, then just talk to someone from the administration about being let back in."

The cyborg wrenched his eyes from his apparent enemy, nodded at the child with a quick "thank you" and left.

Maybe Boros would have wondered where he was going, if he hadn't been itching to exchange the human clothes he had been provided with for his armor. When he took a step toward the two humans, Child Emperor braced himself warily while Syrup Face(?) narrowed his eyes and took a step forward.

Boros stopped, not wanting to start a fight on accident, and nodded at the boy's mechanical arm. "You found my limiter."

Child Emperor found his voice quickly as he relaxed again. "Ah, yes." He moved the arm to hold it out to him and Boros accepted the item gratefully.

He didn't waste any time changing into it and snapping the lock firmly into place. The red orb glowed briefly as it settled over his power core until it had adjusted to the energy output. Boros sighed with relief. It was just so much more familiar wearing the contraption that was specifically designed for him. Besides, feeling the strain of his powers being sealed within him was a strange comfort.

He was well aware that Child Emperor had watched him out of curious eyes, restlessly moving the stick attached to his food around in his mouth. When Boros was done, he popped it out of his mouth to ask, "Were you the one who developed this limiter?"

Boros looked at him and shook his head. "It was one of the lead engineers on my ship. She invented the technology and managed to optimize it after building numerous prototypes."

The pup bit his lower lip. "Do you know how it works?"

"I do not."

Child Emperor sighed in disappointment. Then he pointed at the armor. "Can you take it off yourself if you need to?"

"Of course," he said. If would be inconvenient if he couldn't.

"Then it doesn't serve much of a purpose if you enter a battle, does it?"

"I never saw the need to take it off in battle. The reason I started wearing it is because I was looking for a fight that would challenge me. If my opponents aren't strong enough to break my limiter on their own, then using my full strength would hardly be necessary."

The pup's eyebrows drew together and he bit on his food in thought. Then he nodded. "We found two more of them. I'm keeping the second one in reserve in case this one gets… damaged. And I'll try to analyze the last one to hopefully find a way to recreate it. I might come back to ask you some questions about it."

"As I mentioned, I cannot tell you anything about the finer points of how it functions," he repeated. Though it would probably be handy to have someone being able to replicate them. Just in case.

Child Emperor nodded. "But you might be able to tell me other things about the effects." He looked up at Syrup Face. "We're done here."

"Hey, wait!" Saitama exclaimed, leaning forward when the two turned to leave. "When can we leave?"

"Not yet," the blue-haired man said, sneering at him.

"I'm sure we can inform you soon enough," Child Emperor tried to placate him. "I might be able to tell you tomorrow."

"He _might_," Saitama mumbled sullenly once they were gone, letting himself fall back against the wall with a _thump_.

"We could just leave if you desire," Boros said, with the added promise of, "I will be careful not to kill anyone."

Saitama shook his head. "Nah, I don't want to cause unnecessary trouble. They might cut my salary."

Salary? Ah, they had a currency-based economy then.

Boros frowned. "You could just demand a tribute."

His master turned his head and looked at him blankly. When he finally wordlessly averted his eyes and drew one leg up to his chest, Boros took that to mean he rejected his suggestion.

Swallowing his desire to insist, he settled back on the floor, his armor clattering in a familiar way.

* * *

Genos returned a while later, still with his arm torn off. When Saitama expressed his surprise about the fact that he hadn't left to receive repairs, the student presented two small books to him. Despite telling him that he didn't have to do that and that he really should go and get his body fixed, it was clear from the way Saitama smiled ever so slightly, the lines around his eyes softening in the process, that he appreciated the gesture.

So far, Boros was not terribly impressed with Genos as a student, but at least he was thoughtful and dedicated. Saitama was certainly happier with the books and he spent the rest of the day leafing through them.

His master offered to share them with him and Genos at some point, though they both refused. Boros didn't want to impose on him by taking away the only form of entertainment he had. Besides, he would have preferred to pick up his training again, more rigorous than before, since he had an important goal now. If only he wasn't cooped up in a cell. One entire day and he hadn't accomplished anything yet.

And there was no change on the third day either. At least until Child Emperor showed up again, this time accompanied by the human that had been knocked out in the scuffle the other day, Tanktop Master. Boros suspected that both he and that blue-haired guy were just there to act as bodyguards for the boy. It was understandable. Depending on how many offspring the Emperor had, he might not be able to expend one of his children. In that case, it was rather reckless to let the pup come back so frequently. Not that it was any of Boros' business.

The visit had been foreseeable after the pup's parting words the previous day. What was surprising was that, after offering them a greeting, he said, "Would you please come with me? I'd like to conduct a few more tests today."

Saitama, obviously more than happy to get out of the cell, immediately agreed. And so, they ended up following the boy out of the prison section of the building, up lots of stairs and down many corridors until they entered another room that was more spacious than the cell and mostly empty. The most notable thing was a metal chair next to a computer that was connected to strange pieces of machinery. There were more technical devices on a nearby table.

"I would've preferred to conduct a proper examination in my lab, but I'm not allowed to take you outside, so this will have to suffice for now," Child Emperor told them while they were still looking at the machines curiously and Tanktop Master took up a position in the background. Boros noted that he looked a lot more determined than during their last meeting, though for what reason he couldn't tell.

"What are you trying to test with this?" Genos asked, nodding in the general direction of the chair.

The pup smirked. "My Okame-Chan couldn't measure the strength of either Boros or Saitama before, but I'm not giving up. Apparently, they're both way off the charts, at least when it comes to physical strength. I want to find a better way of measuring that and find out more about their abilities. As well as how they managed to get that strong."

Genos nodded in contemplation. "I see. I have been trying to find the secret to Saitama-sensei's strength as well, but I couldn't determine the cause yet."

"Oh, really," Child Emperor said, sounding interested. "We should compare notes at some point."

Boros scoffed at the exchange. "Why measure something like that? Why question the origin? What's the point?"

The smile on the boy's face disappeared, replaced by a scowl. "What do you mean 'why'? This kind of thing could give us insight that might lead to a scientific breakthrough!" he snapped. Drawing his head close to his shoulders and looking a little flustered, he added, "Even if it turns out that we can't put this information to use, it's still a highly interesting topic!"

"If you think so."

Mumbling something darkly under his breath, Child Emperor went over to the computer to start up a program. He then turned around and instructed Boros to sit on the metal chair next to it. After glancing at Saitama and receiving a nod from him, he did as the pup told him. Soon enough, some kind of helmet sat on his head and the boy's mechanical arms had attached several sensors to his temples, forehead and neck as well as his hands and wrists, once he had taken off his gloves.

Having some youngling conducting experiments on his body didn't sit right with Boros, but if his master agreed with it, there was nothing he could do. Therefore, he waited patiently while Child Emperor hummed around another one of those pink colored food items he had unpacked shortly after directing him to the chair, typing away on the computer and adjusting the sensors now and then. A frown had been on his face the entire time that gradually deepened and finally culminated in a sigh.

"I only get error messages," he said, drumming his fingers against the desk. "It's probably the limiter interfering with the reading. Could you deactivate it for a little bit?"

Humoring the pup, he took off the upper part of his armor after Child Emperor had detached the sensors so they wouldn't get in the way. He took a deep breath when he felt his energy expanding. Child Emperor shifted uncomfortably for a second before he nodded and reattached the sensors. This time, he even stuck a few to various points on his upper body.

When the mechanical arm moved to attach one directly to his energy core, Boros' hand snapped up automatically, crushing it in his fist.

"Don't," he growled, narrowing his eye. He only went along with the treatment because his master had approved it. But this went too far and he wouldn't put up with it unless he had no other choice.

Child Emperor looked startled, instinctively tugging the spindly piece of technology back and Boros released it from his grip to grant him the option to retreat. It was drawn back into the bag in a flash.

"Ah, uhm, sorry," the pup stammered after a moment of recovery.

Boros just let out a huff in response. He chanced a look at the other people in the room. While both the bodyguard and the cyborg looked like they had been prepared to jump in and interfere, his master still looked on as relaxed as ever. Relieved that his actions didn't seem to have been out of line, he focused back on the pup that had returned to operating his computer.

He worked in silence for a while, until he shook his head, eyes shut in frustration. "It's no use, I don't get any results. I'll have to consult with Metal Knight on this. We might have to… lower the sensitivity to get any data at all."

"So, that's it?" Saitama asked, stepping closer and inspecting the sensor-covered Boros before he tugged on one of the cables connecting them to the computer.

"Looks like it. There's nothing else I can do for now," Child Emperor said, hurriedly sending out another one of his metal arms to remove the sensors and snatch away the one Saitama was playing with.

While Boros re-engaged his limiter and Child Emperor put away the mechanical equipment, Saitama watched for some time until he spoke up again. "Does that mean we can leave now?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, Tanktop Master can take you back downstairs," the pup said distractedly.

Saitama frowned. "No, I meant if we can go home. You said you'd give us an answer today."

Child Emperor paused. Then he made a small "oh" of realization and put the helmet away before he turned around with a grin. "That's right, you weren't told yet. The Hero Association decided to promote you to A-Class."

"Huh?!" Saitama was clearly taken aback. "But I'm only B-Rank 63! That's a huge jump!"

"It is, but the Hero Association staff members thought it would be appropriate in this situation."

Saitama scratched his head. "Well, alright. I mean, that's cool and all, but it doesn't answer my question."

Child Emperor waved his food-on-a-stick around. "I was getting to that. The headquarters is currently under reconstruction. The main building is going to stay mostly the same, but since City A has been destroyed," he threw Boros a look that he returned dispassionately, "the surrounding area will be used to expand on it and create quarters for heroes of A-Class or higher. Metal Knight said he'd be done with that in five more days at the most."

"Okay?" Saitama seemed confused. "That's pretty fast. Good for you, I guess."

The pup sighed. "What I was trying to say is that he's going to add special quarters for you and Boros. It'll only take a few more days, then you can move in."

Saitama looked at him blankly. A moment passed, then, "No."

"Look, I understand that this is a little unexpected, but it's for the best. The Association is going to take care of everything and you will be provided with whatever you need. Of course, you get a say in th–"

"No," Saitama said again. "I like my apartment. I don't wanna move out." Before Child Emperor could do more than gape at him, he had already turned around to his student. "Genos, we're going home."

"Yes, Sensei!"

"What– Wait, you can't!" the pup called out, hurrying after him. Boros stepped in his way and the boy stopped warily.

On the other side of the room, the bodyguard had moved in front of the door. "Sorry, but you're not allowed to leave."

"I only stayed because I thought you guys were talking about spending a few days here. Nobody said anything about living here permanently," Saitama told him.

The man didn't move. "Well, that's how it is now."

"That's stupid. Get out of the way."

Tanktop Master crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Can't. We've got our orders."

Saitama's demeanor suddenly changed, and with it the air in the room. His eyes narrowed and his eyebrows drew together. Boros could see the bodyguard swallow nervously.

"I don't care. Move." Saitama stared him down despite being a lot shorter. When Tanktop Master didn't react, he added, "I don't wanna hurt you, but I'm going to leave now."

"You should do what he says," Genos added, stepping to his teacher's side. "You couldn't stop Saitama-sensei even if you tried."

"Wait a second, there's no need to fight! Let's all calm down, alright?" Child Emperor spoke up again, moving carefully toward Boros with both of his hands raised. He glanced over at the people in front of the door. "Tanktop Master, it's fine, they can leave. I'll approve it."

The bodyguard's head snapped to him. "You what?! You can't do that, the HA will–"

"Will have to accept that they can't keep them here. It's not really in our hands, is it?" He turned to address Saitama, holding up two fingers. "I'll approve it, under two conditions."

Saitama groaned. "Should've known there was a catch. What now?"

"Don't worry, I'm not asking for much!" the pup quickly clarified. "Just hear me out. The first condition is that you won't let Boros run around unsupervised. He is considered a Dragon-level threat after all, so we need to take precautions. I'm just asking you that you won't leave him alone and that you won't take him to the more populated areas, if it's absolutely necessary to walk through the city with him. Well, and obviously, you'd need to put a stop to it if he tries to cause trouble. Do you think you can do that?"

Boros scowled, clenching his fists.

Saitama sighed. "So, you just want me to play babysitter? Can't say I'm looking forward to it, but yeah, fine. What's the second?"

"I'd like you to write down a reliable way for me to contact you. Address, phone number, whatever you can give me. Anything is fine," Child Emperor said. As he adjusted the straps of his bag, another mechanical arm emerged from it, stretching past Boros and across half the room to hand Saitama a computer pad with a small keyboard.

"That's it?" Saitama asked him, looking confused.

"That's it. I just need to be able to reach out to you."

Quickly, his master typed on the small keyboard and held the pad out for the machine to take back once he was done. "Thanks," Child Emperor said, holding it in his hands a second later. When he glanced at what Saitama had written, he grimaced. "Really? Just an address? No phone number?"

"I don't have a phone."

"What!" the pup exclaimed, staring at him with wide eyes. "How can you _not_ have a phone?"

"They're expensive and I don't actually need one," Saitama said with a shrug.

"What about an e-mail address?"

"Well, I have one of those but I never check it."

Child Emperor looked like he wanted to protest, but then he just sighed and peered at the pad gain. A second later, his eyes widened. "Wait, that's–!" He quickly looked up again. "Isn't that in the deserted part of City Z? You live there?"

"Yeah, why?"

The pup grinned. "That's perfect!"

Saitama frowned in response. "How is that a good thing? All my favorite supermarkets and grocery stores closed down one by one. Including the one that had really great deals on dairy products every second Friday afternoon."

Child Emperor seemed to be unsure how to react to that. Eventually, he shook his head. "I actually meant that the Association won't be as opposed to the idea of you leaving if you live in an abandoned area where there are less chances of Boros encountering any civilians."

This was definitely enough of this insulting nonsense. Boros was fed up with them speaking disrespectfully, pretending that he wasn't there. "You still seem to think that I am not serious about serving Master Saitama," he interjected. "I could have left at any point, had I wanted to. However, I have received orders to stay put, just like I was told not to kill anyone. I would not disrespect these directives."

The boy opened his mouth but he wasn't the one to speak.

"Hey, Boros, don't take it like that. They hardly know you and they're just careful. If you want to prove to them that you're not a threat, you should let your actions speak for themselves. They'll get the idea," Saitama said quickly. In the background, Genos gasped with open reverence. His master then added with a desperate look in his eyes, "C'mon, just let it go, okay? I wanna go home already."

Boros stared at him, not so much because of his speech – though he had to admit that there was some logic in it – but because Saitama had finally addressed him by his correct name. The restraint Boros had shown over the past few days where he had abstained from following his instincts to attack those ignorant humans around them had already paid off. His master finally began to acknowledge him!

A feeling of pride bloomed in his chest as he nodded with a pleased smile. "Yes, Mas– Saitama."

* * *

**A/N: **I made up my mind and decided against a romance subplot. Update "schedule" for the first couple of chapters at least will be every 2-3 weeks. Next one goes online in the first week of October, unless my thesis prevents me from updating.

And to all you amazing people out there, thank you for all the feedback! I've never gotten this many responses on any story. Not gonna lie, it made me a bit nervous at first because I didn't really plan ahead. That's why I finally sat down and made a rough outline, so actually I know where I want to go with this now. That being said, looks like there'll be approximately 21 chapters in total. Oops. Didn't seem like that much in my head. I wish I could keep my stories short and concise, but… guess not. I'll try to condense it somehow. (Who am I kidding, if anything it's just gonna get longer.)

Some replies to guest reviews:

**Bmurd3rf4c3:** I don't speak Spanish, unfortunately, but Google Translate is helping me understand what you wrote. I just wanted to say that I may not understand you perfectly, but I appreciate your reviews either way.

**Guest who told me not to add romance:** Thanks for saying what you did, it made me feel like a hypocrite. I always complain about unnecessary romance plots and then I consider writing one myself. Kinda stupid. I do think it's possible to do it without making them OOC if it's built up properly, but you're absolutely right, it wouldn't add anything of value and it probably wouldn't fit into the narrative anyway. And I really don't need any more material to make this even longer.

**Noname90:** Thank you! Though I take no credit for the idea with the glue. That's just a small nod to something from the webcomic.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Boros was appalled. Absolutely shocked. He stared with barely masked horror at the interior of the place his master lived in. It was _tiny_! Barely bigger than the crew dorms on his ship. And those were just meant to offer a place to sleep! This… _apartment_ was Saitama's entire home! It felt uncomfortable and crowded to spend just one minute in this cramped space.

Child Emperor had asked – no, insisted – that they should take a car to Saitama's home when he found out that they were going to use public transport. Boros hadn't been sure what was meant by any of that until they had been led through the rubble of the destroyed city to its edge. (His ship was nowhere to be seen, which really cemented the realization that his old life was gone.) There, they had to enter a shiny black vehicle on four wheels, which he guessed was the aforementioned car, and once they did, Tanktop Master navigated it to bring them to their destination.

The journey had been uncomfortable, as the vehicle was clearly meant for humans and Boros had to duck his head a little because the roof was rather low, not to mention the limited space for his legs. But at least that had been just a temporary discomfort. This place, however… it was unacceptable. It had looked rather unimpressive and clearly beneath someone like Saitama even on the outside and that was when Boros had assumed that he owned the entire building.

As it turned out, his living space only consisted of four rooms, one smaller than the next. Boros was currently standing in the biggest one and even that was barely large enough to contain a desk with a computer, another black monitor, a strangely flat table, as well as a small closet and some shelves with various books and knick-knacks.

It was entirely unbecoming.

"Is this really where you live?" Boros asked again, still as incredulous as when he first stepped foot in the place.

"Dude, for the fifth time, yes," Saitama said, not even looking at him anymore and instead opening a glass door leading to a small almost-room attached to the outside of the house and stepping out. Boros watched him through the open door as he picked up a strange-looking green object and used it to pour water on what appeared to be a very spiky plant.

"But everything is so small!" Boros said indignantly as soon as his master stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.

"I _like_ it," he retorted and his slightly defensive tone, coupled with the exasperated look on his face, suddenly made Boros remember his place and he backed down. Right. He was in no position to question his master, especially out loud. Saitama was entitled to do whatever he wanted and though he seemed content taking a strangely passive role until now, him standing his ground on this matter showed that he wouldn't let anyone push him around if he didn't want to go along with it.

It was good, honestly. Boros wouldn't want a master who couldn't stand up for himself. But… it still pained him to know that Saitama's living standards were this far below what they should be. Even worse, Boros himself would also be forced to occupy this cage from now on…

He almost didn't want to imagine it. Swallowing his pride for now, he looked around. At least he could approve of the furnishing. On his travels, he had seen kings and nobles flaunt their wealth, cluttering their homes with luxuries and things that were entirely useless. Things that just served the purpose of looking pretty without being practical. Boros had always looked down on their kind. He couldn't fathom what they would gain from surrounding themselves with things they didn't need.

Saitama didn't appear to be this kind of person. As far as Boros could tell, all of his possessions had at least some kind of purpose, even if it looked cluttered. Though that was probably more due to the limited space he had available.

Boros could approve of that.

While he thought that, Saitama started taking off his yellow suit until he was dressed in only a short pair of pants he had worn underneath. Boros watched him carefully, getting an especially good look when Saitama walked across the room until he stood right in front of him.

He had seen some of the other humans in various states of dress – one of them had been completely naked, he remembered – but he hadn't taken the time to really study them. Now that he wasn't in a combat situation and he could see his master up close, he realized that humans were entirely unicolored, except for some darker colored spots of various sizes.

Apart from the color and the missing central power source, the general physique of a human male looked similar enough to that of his own species. Everything about them was a little smaller and narrower, but the differences weren't too great. Moreover, the skin was the part that stood out the most. It looked like it had a different texture than his own. On closer inspection, he realized that there seemed to be fine hair growing all over their body. Though not thick enough to be considered fur.

"Hey," Saitama said with a frown.

"Yes?"

"You're kind of in the way."

Boros blinked, realizing that he hadn't moved from the doorway after he had come in. He quickly stepped to the side to allow his master to squeeze past him. It was going to be difficult navigating this tiny space. "My apologies."

"'s fine." When he reached the doorway, Saitama turned around to him once more. "I'm gonna take a bath. Don't… y'know, leave the apartment or something, alright? Just stay inside and… I dunno what you do for fun." He shrugged. "Make yourself at home."

With that, his master continued down the small entrance hallway (Boros had been strictly admonished to take his shoes off when he attempted to walk inside without doing so. Apparently, this kind of thing was considered very rude in human culture.) and disappeared in the small bathroom. Boros stayed behind, staring after him for a while until he took another look at what he had been told was the living room.

Left without any clear instructions, Boros found himself hesitating. Naturally, he was very curious about his master's lifestyle. But while his words could be interpreted as a 'Feel free to investigate,' Boros didn't even know what half of these objects did and he didn't want to break anything.

Genos had left the apartment to finally get some repairs after Boros had been given a short tour of the place, and after Saitama had repeatedly pushed him to go and reassured him that it wouldn't be a problem. Though Boros didn't miss the student in the slightest, he had to admit that it would have been nice to be able to ask him some questions about some things. For example, what kind of surveillance the big monitor in the corner was for or what use the computer had.

…Well, at least he could look through the books without risking any damage to his master's possessions. Those couldn't be too different to the ones he was used to, right?

He grabbed one of the slim books neatly aligned in the long shelf in the corner of the room and pulled it out. It was… unexpectedly colorful on the cover. There was a muscled human male drawn in a cartoonish style on the cover, posing with some weapons in his hands. He soon discovered that the content was written in prose but drawn in the same style as the cover. Almost every page was divided into multiple small pictures, many of them containing additional white spaces for text. They appeared to be connected in some way, but… Boros couldn't for the life of him figure out what he was looking at. The book seemed to depict some fight scenes and some instances of people talking, but he couldn't make sense of it.

With a thoughtful frown, he carefully placed the book back on the shelf, pulling out another one and looking through that as well, and then repeating the process with a third and a fourth. They very obviously told a story. Chronicles of human history, probably? They must have depicted the significant battles and events of their kind in a visual narrative, neatly documented in these booklets.

He would have to ask about how they were read. However, while Boros was a little curious, that was all it was. He couldn't claim that the prospect of learning about human history was all that intriguing. Every species on every planet had a history. Hearing about every single one of them would be tedious and unnecessary, so he didn't bother. It didn't have any connection to his current situation.

He wanted to learn more about what kind of man Saitama was. He was also marginally interested in current human culture, but only so far as it concerned him. After all, he only needed to know about things he might face eventually during his stay on earth. What use would it be to learn about all their little quirks and what historical significance they had if he never found himself in a situation where he would need this kind of knowledge? It was pointless.

He replaced the book in his hand and focused a different kind of book lying on top of the shelf in a pair of three. They were a little slimmer but a lot larger in height and they had a hard cover. Taking the one on top of the stack, he opened it and found his interest piqued immediately. Those were different.

They were handwritten, for one. On top of that, the content revolved around his master almost exclusively. There were notes of random information, statistics, as well as a lot of sketches, detailing the man's posture with meticulous descriptions of things like the measurement between his fingers or the angle he held his head at.

Granted, Boros _had_ wanted to learn more about his new master, but… this seemed a little excessive. Well, if someone collected this kind of data with so much detail, it was most likely part of an extensive scientific study. He sneered. These scientists were too obsessive with their little projects. Just like that royal child.

Focusing on the entries accompanying the pictures and occasional diagrams, he started reading a few of them. They were written in chronological order (which made him realize that he had tried reading the history books starting from the wrong end) and mostly documented what Saitama had done over the course of a day, with some other events mixed in. Even though he only understood about half of what it said, that half just seemed plain weird and unnecessary to him. How useful could data about how many gulps his master needed to finish a drink possibly be? What was the point?

He startled when a hand suddenly entered his field of vision, snatching the book away from him. He looked up to see Saitama frown down at him.

"What're you doing? You can't just read Genos' journals. That's his private stuff," he scolded, only sounding mildly disgruntled. He didn't wear the suit again, dressed in a shirt and short pants instead. Boros also noted that he smelt differently from before. Weirdly… artificial.

"Please accept my apology. I was unaware that they belonged to your student." That piece of information raised a whole lot of other questions.

Saitama heaved a long breath, placing the notebook back on top of the others. "Yeah, guess that's on me. I should've told you not to touch those. But you know now and shouldn't do it again."

"I won't," Boros assured him, and Saitama turned around with a nod. Boros watched him walk away, frowning as he slowly followed.

"Why does your student keep such detailed notes on you?"

Saitama shrugged as he walked, briefly disappearing from view when he went into the hallway and into the kitchen, now visible through a window that was just a rectangular hole in the wall separating the two rooms. (How did human architects come up with something like adding a window that didn't show the outside and didn't even have a glass pane?)

"Honestly, no idea. He's trying to figure out how I got this strong. I told him all there is to it, but he's convinced that there must be some secret behind it." He rummaged through some of the cupboards as he spoke. "He won't listen, so I'm just letting him continue. It doesn't hurt anyone anyway." He paused suddenly and turned around, holding an empty pot. "Do you want tea?"

"Tea?"

"Yeah. To drink. Do you not have that on... uh, your planet?"

"No." Back in the prison, they had only been given water. And as far as he knew, he had never heard of this beverage during his travels. Though maybe he had and it just had a different term here on earth.

"Oh." Saitama looked down at the pot in his hand. "Well, do you want to try some?"

"… Only if it is no trouble."

His master shook his head and turned, filling the pot with water in the sink and setting it on a base part on the counter. "Wouldn't've asked if it was," he mumbled. Then he took two cups from one cupboard, a small box from another and put two little bags from the box in the cups. Boros watched the proceedings intently.

"Why did you accept him as your disciple?"

"Hm? Well, he didn't really take no for an answer and I promised to take him as my student if he joined the Hero Association with me," Saitama said slowly, turning to face him again as he leaned against the counter and staring at the wall. With a half-hearted shrug, he added, "And he pays rent."

That… was it? If that was all, it was an extremely weak reason. "Forgive me, M– Saitama, but I'm afraid I cannot comprehend this. It is my understanding that taking on a student is only sensible if both parties can benefit from it. The disciple grows and learns from the master and in turn becomes a representative of the master. He might be moderately strong, but it is unlikely that Genos will ever reach your level. You must be aware of that. There is only so much he can learn from you. And he is too weak to act in your stead. So far, it looks like he would just hold you back in most situations."

Saitama stared at him blankly while he spoke. When Boros was finished, he said flatly, "Alright, seriously, what is it with both you and Genos that you need to use as many words as possible? Say it again in 20 words or less, in a way I can understand it."

Ah. Naturally, if he had to waste his master's time with unnecessary questions, he should keep them short and simple. Boros tried again. "Why would you take a student if you know that he will never become as strong as you?"

Saitama looked at him in confusion and his answer was something Boros hadn't expected. "Why would I want him to become that strong? He'd just be miserable. I would've thought you'd get that."

He froze for a second and he suddenly felt foolish for not even thinking about that. "I… Yes, of course. It's just… that is what having a disciple is usually about. I don't see what each of you gains from this arrangement."

"What we gain?" The water in the pot had started boiling and Saitama took it from the base and poured it into the two cups, setting them on the small windowsill in the wall. "I'm not sure what exactly he gets from it, but Genos is pretty forward. If he thought he was wasting his time here, he'd say so and leave. As long as he's happy, he can stay. I don't mind." He was staring at his cup, moving the small bag around in the liquid by a string. "I mean, I like having him around too. He's a good roommate. Having him here helps."

Boros blinked in astonishment. "I… see," he said, even though he didn't, really. "Thank you for answering my question."

So, apparently, their relationship wasn't necessarily about gaining power. At least not primarily. There were other aspects they valued more, though which ones? Well, he couldn't care less about Genos' reasons, but he wondered about Saitama. What did that even mean, the cyborg 'helped'? Did he take care of chores? Boros didn't know if that was a common task for disciples, but as it appeared that Saitama had no other servants, it would make sense. If that was the case, Genos had no real reason to stay anymore. Boros could take care of everything his master needed him to do from now on. Genos wasn't needed. Besides, three people in such small quarters were a bit much.

He pondered the question while Saitama removed the bags from the cups, pushing one a little closer to Boros to signify that he could take it. He eyed the liquid that had taken on a greenish tint skeptically. It didn't look or smell particularly appealing. Picking it up carefully (human things were all so small and breakable!) and taking a sip, he quickly decided that he didn't like the taste either. It was like stuffing his mouth full of herbs and leaves.

Keeping his face carefully neutral to hide his disgust, Boros placed the cup down again, still deep in thought.

Maybe it was more of a leisure activity for him? Something his master had re-centered his life around after obtaining this absurd amount of power? Boros' eye focused on Saitama once more, watching as the man rummaged through a cooling container, judging by the cold air that emanated from it.

For Boros, it had never really been a question. Fighting and conquering had always been his life's content, so even when he couldn't find joy in it anymore, he had carried on with it. He had tried to distract himself by keeping the planets he governed under his rule, looking for strong warriors to recruit on his ship… hoping that one of them might be able to keep up with him in battle, but of course, he had never been that lucky.

It hadn't been exciting but at least it gave him something to do. Saitama… didn't seem to be the conquering type. He didn't even rule his _own_ planet. He hadn't quite given up, that much was apparent. But there had to be something that kept him going, engaged with the world. Was it his student? Maybe the feeling of responsibility he had toward Genos was what he used to distract himself?

"Oh!" Saitama turned around suddenly, still holding a package he had just taken out of the cooler. Boros met his gaze curiously. "I almost forgot; did you want to take a bath as well?"

Well, he had only been able to wash off the worst of the dust and debris he was covered in after their fight back in the small bathroom of the prison cell. Being able to wash off the rest would be rather nice. "It would be much appreciated."

Saitama set the package down on the counter. "Dude, you gotta say if you need anything."

"Of course. I didn't mean to trouble you."

"It's no trouble. You should lighten up a little," Saitama told him, walking out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the bathroom. Boros followed him and instinctively took the folded piece of cloth he was handed when he arrived in the doorway.

"Here. Take this to dry yourself," Saitama said. Then he pointed to some bottles on the brim of a vat. "There's some body lotion and stuff."

Boros looked over the vat in the corner of the room, a curtain dividing it from the rest. Saitama was already making to leave the room when Boros stopped him. "Excuse me, but how do you operate it?"

His master came back briefly to show him before he left him alone. While the tub was filling (he had to turn the handle all the way until it wouldn't move any further when he realized that the water was barely lukewarm) he took off his armor and set it aside.

The vat was a little small, clearly shaped for humans, but it was still nice to sit in the hot water for a while, letting his skin absorb some moisture and minerals. He read the labels on the bottles Saitama had shown him and put them back down when he found no use for them. The descriptions suggested that humans rubbed it on their skin, but he couldn't discern for what purpose. Were they so ill-equipped to their planet's atmosphere that they had to use such products to protect their bodies? In any case, it at least explained the strange new scent he had noticed around his master. One of the bottles smelt the same way.

After soaking for a while and scrubbing himself down, he got out, dried himself and got dressed, and exited the room feeling refreshed. He was greeted by another weird smell when he opened the door. Following it, he found Saitama in the kitchen again, moving some human food around in a pan.

He looked up when he noticed Boros in the doorway. "Ah, you're back." He turned back to the pan when he received a nod. "Good. Dinner's almost done."

There was a weird noise in the background he chose to ignore for now.

"You prepare the food yourself?" Boros asked, a little appalled. "Why?"

"Well, Genos won't be home for a while, so…" He shrugged, moving the long, round strands of… something around some more. "Just because he insists on cooking most of the time doesn't mean I don't know how to. And I didn't wanna leave you here alone for too long to get takeout."

Boros still didn't understand. Even if his student was usually the one doing these tasks, Saitama shouldn't have to take care of things like these at all. But the man treated it like it was completely natural. It was puzzling how… domestic he appeared to be.

"Stop standing around watching me from the hallway, it's weird," Saitama told him with a side glance when Boros didn't move from his spot for a few minutes. With a nod toward the window, he added, "You can sit down at the table, I'll be right there."

He followed his command and discovered the source of the noise he had heard before. The monitor in the corner was showing surveillance footage of some city and a woman was talking to the camera. When he listened to what she said, he discovered that she was reporting on a monster attack that had taken place earlier. Was this how Saitama got notified of threats he needed to take care off?

For now, he went over to the table as he had been told, but he soon discovered that he had no idea what to do. Why did humans have tables this small or how did they manage to sit at them? Of course, Boros was taller than them, but even for their height, the table legs were just too short in his eye. There weren't even any chairs around it, not that they would fit. For a lack of a better solution, Boros ended up standing in front of it awkwardly.

True to his word, Saitama arrived only a short time later, carrying two dishes and setting one of them in front of Boros while placing the other one where he sat down. And as Boros watched him bring in the food, he realized: shouldn't he be the one taking care of this? For him to be served by Saitama and not the other way around made him feel like he had failed at the first opportunity.

Saitama looked up at him questioningly. "What're you doing? Sit down."

He carefully settled on the ground, scooting as close to the table as he dared without bumping against it with his knees. "Master. I'm sorry for not fulfilling my duties. I didn't realize… Please tell me the next time you need me to bring out the food or–"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Saitama interrupted him with a blank look. "It's not like I can't do that myself. Here."

He handed Boros two sticks. Not made of wood and attached to one another but slick, black and separate this time. Boros took them wordlessly, resigning himself to be more attentive and ate. Or he tried to, as best as he could.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence, until Saitama suddenly said, "Okay, no." Boros looked at him questioningly and his master held out his own hand so Boros could see it. "Look, you're holding them all wrong. You need to do it like this." He moved his fingers, clicking the sticks together in the process.

Embarrassed at having to be taught but not wanting to appear ungrateful, Boros tried to mimic him. It felt a bit like he was tying his fingers into a knot and when he moved them the way Saitama had shown him, it was uncontrolled and the sticks went in completely different directions.

His master shook his head. "Not like this. I'll show you," he said, scooted over to Boros and took his hand to bend the fingers himself.

Boros held his breath and carefully didn't lash out at his master. He wanted to push the man away, but that would have been extremely disrespectful, wouldn't it? On the other hand, what Saitama did was just as disrespectful… but as the superior, he had the right to break these rules, didn't he? Boros couldn't possibly tell him to let him go.

Saitama didn't make the situation any better by commenting on it. "Huh. You're pretty warm. And your skin is real smooth. Almost like rubber."

When one of his fingers moved to rub over the back of Boros' hand, he reflexively pulled it back, effectively yanking it out of Saitama's grasp.

He saw his master's confused look and bit back the angry remark on the tip of his tongue. "Yes," he instead said through clenched teeth. "I apologize for my insubordination, but where I come from it is unusual to initiate casual physical contact, as it is mostly restricted to certain social rites. I will accept any punishment you see fit." He fought to keep the scowl off his face and lost. He quickly exposed his throat instead, hoping it would somehow make his previous behavior less impertinent.

When he lowered his head again, Saitama looked at him blankly. "Short and simple, remember?"

"… I apologize for my behavior, but I dislike being touched. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Uh… not offended. I shouldn't have grabbed your hand without warning. You gotta tell me when stuff like that makes you uncomfortable. Okay?"

That was not an answer he had expected. "I… yes. Thank you," he said, too confused to formulate a proper answer. Was this really alright? Boros greatly appreciated being allowed to voice his discomfort, but wasn't this really weird regardless? It was as if their roles were reversed. He couldn't just order his master around. It was all so terribly backwards.

Shaking his head to clear it, Boros quickly focused on the way Saitama explained the whole stick holding technique again. It was easier seeing it from the same angle and after a few botched tries and corrections, Saitama finally told him that he got it and returned to his own spot at the table. The sticks still felt awkward in his hand and moving them was difficult and required fine motor skills, but he did manage to eat a little bit easier. The taste was still strange.

Saitama, having finished long before him, grabbed the dirty dishes as soon as Boros pushed his away from himself, and carried them back to the kitchen, much to his chagrin. This was supposed to be _his_ work. Not that he was particularly looking forward to it but it was the principle of the thing.

"Looks like Genos won't be back before morning," Saitama said when he returned, yawning widely. "It's late, we should go to sleep."

And again, they were back to futons, crushing Boros' hope that these strange beds were only a makeshift solution for prisoners. As Saitama held the second one rolled up in one arm, he scratched his head. "Oh, right, we only have two. Good thing Genos isn't here then. You can crash on his for the night." He laid it out on the ground, frowning all of a sudden. "Dammit, that means we need to buy you one. You wouldn't happen to have money?" he asked, facing Boros.

Boros shook his head. "I don't."

His master sighed. "Yeah, figures. And you'd need some other stuff as well… You don't even have a toothbrush!" He dragged his hand over his head with a scowl. "This is gonna be expensive."

Saitama truly didn't look happy, which was understandable with how much trouble Boros apparently caused him. It wasn't like he wanted to give up on basic needs like a place to sleep, but if the alternative meant being a burden… "There is no need to go to unnecessary lengths to accommodate me. I don't need anything," Boros quickly tried to reassure him.

The look he received told him that Saitama didn't want him here, but the reply he got said something different. "Don't be stupid, you need _some_ things at least." He stared into space for a second, before he added, "It'll be fine. We'll have to spend a little less for a while, but we'll manage. I've been in worse situations in the past." It sounded like he was reassuring himself more than Boros.

It perplexed him. His master was… short on money? How was that even possible? He didn't live in luxury, so it wasn't like he spent it on junk he didn't need – as far as Boros could tell anyway. Just how little did this Hero Association pay him?

He almost didn't want to think about it, but… the more he learnt of his master, the more he felt like the man was lacking leadership qualities. Following the commands of weaklings, living in terrible conditions without demanding better housing and greater salary, … asking a mere servant for his opinion. Boros truly hoped that he was wrong about this and his first impression was just inaccurate. Or, if it wasn't, that Saitama would learn to be more assertive soon.

"You could use a pair of pajamas as well."

The offhand comment alerted him to the fact that Saitama was now dressed in yet another pair of clothes (just how many different clothes did humans have?). This time, the top and bottom were matching again, both being a shade of blue with slightly darker stripes.

"Pajamas?" Boros asked.

"To sleep in," Saitama said, eyeing his limiter. "That armor looks uncomfortable for lying down."

Well, it was. A little. He had to take off the chest piece because of the shoulder spikes either way, but… another pair of clothes just to sleep in? Wasn't that excessive? "Do you think this will be needed?"

"Well, unless you want to sleep naked," Saitama said. It sounded like he was joking, but Boros didn't get the joke. Was it wrong to sleep naked? Then again, humans seemed to put so much value on clothing, it was probably another cultural thing, like leaving the shoes at the entrance. He would get used to their compulsive need to dress themselves. Maybe.

It was only when his master climbed into one of the futons that he realized they were both supposed to sleep in one of them and how close together they were placed. "M– Saitama, I'm sorry, but do you expect me to sleep next to you?" he asked carefully.

Saitama looked up at him questioningly. "Hm? Is there a problem?"

"I…" There was so much wrong with this arrangement that Boros didn't even know where to start. "It's too close and our social standing is too–" Before he could try to properly explain why this was inacceptable, his master cut him off.

"Okay, you don't like it, I get it. Well, sorry, but that's all the space there is, so you'll have to suck it up." His voice carried a hint of annoyance.

Boros stayed quiet.

Saitama turned his back to him, pulling the blanket up to his neck. "Just lie down and sleep."

…

Well, he truly didn't like it, but what choice did he have? Hadn't he just thought that his master should be more assertive? Maybe he should have been more careful with his wish. Removing the upper half of his armor with a sigh, he reluctantly lied down on the second futon. After he had dragged it as far away from Saitama's as possible. He hoped it wouldn't be seen as an act of rebellion, but he just couldn't bear the thought of being closer than he deeded to be.

It was… uncomfortable to say the least. Even with the space between their beds, he could still feel Saitama's aura almost encompassing him in the stillness. He subconsciously let his own energy flare up a little. Not enough to disintegrate the futon, but enough to get some breathing room.

He couldn't remember the last time he had shared such close sleeping quarters with another being. If he had thought that the apartment felt suffocating with its lack of space, he felt positively claustrophobic now. At least the prison cell had left them with the freedom to lie down on opposite ends of the room.

He didn't even want to start with the problem that master and servant really weren't supposed to sleep side by side. Did that mean that Genos usually slept next to his teacher? That was just as improper! Didn't humans care about hierarchy at all?

Boros didn't know how long he lied there with his eye squeezed shut, trying to ignore Saitama, which was extremely difficult, especially with how often he _moved_ in his sleep. More than once, he inched a little to the side when Saitama twisted his body and ended up closer to him. Thankfully, he moved in the other direction just as often. Once, he carefully picked up a stray arm that hit his torso as his master turned, placing it back on the bed where it belonged. It was awful.

He must have spent hours willing himself to sleep despite his misgivings without success. He just knew that he was incredibly relieved when he heard a click, followed by the sound of the front door opening. At this point, he would have taken any excuse to get up. And an intruder gave him both an excuse to leave the dreaded futon as well as the opportunity to finally fulfill his duty as a servant by protecting his master's sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Boros felt a little disappointed when he reached the hallway and recognized the yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. It wasn't an intruder. Well, at least not one his master wouldn't allow in anyway. He huffed, not bothering to mask his dislike for the student. "Master Saitama didn't expect your return before morning," he said as quietly as possible.

"I told him I would be back as soon as my repairs were done. Where is he?" Genos whispered right back.

Boros crossed his arms, effectively blocking the hallway. "In bed. Asleep. Do not wake him."

The eyes narrowed, but the cyborg hesitated. "I'd like to confirm it for myself," he eventually said.

Boros sneered. "What, you don't trust my word?"

"No."

The tension in the air was tangible. Especially when Genos approached him after a second of silence. Boros didn't move until the cyborg was right in front of him, scowling and determined. He stayed right where he was for another moment, staring him down in the dim moonlight filtering in from the living room as he contemplated just knocking the cyborg out to avoid the trouble of dealing with him.

Considering his metal body, would it even be possible to knock him out without destroying him? Did cyborgs have a button you could press to power them down? Well, Genos certainly wouldn't tell him about it if that was the case. Boros wondered if he would have to resort to restraining or incapacitating him in some other way if he wanted to keep him away.

In the end, Boros stepped to the side, deliberately slowly. Saitama probably wouldn't approve of him damaging his student, even if it was for the man's own benefit. And a scuffle might lead to a lot of noise…

"Do not wake him," he warned again.

Genos' eyes stayed glued to him for a second longer, then he walked past him to stand in the doorway to the living room. He looked inside for a long while before he turned back. Boros met his dark look with an impatient one of his own.

"You should wait outside until morning," he told the cyborg matter-of-factly.

"What about you?" came the sharp reply.

"I shall remain here to stand guard."

The cyborg shook his head. "If I go out, so do you."

Boros glanced at his sleeping master once more, then he nodded. "Very well." He could guard the place just as well from the outside. Plus, it would mean getting out of this tiny room.

He followed Genos out of the front door, leaving his boots where they were. Once they had walked a short distance away from the apartment and from each other, their staring contest resumed. The cyborg's energy fluctuated, as if he was itching for a fight. At least he was smart enough not to act on the impulse.

Recalling the conversation he had with his master the previous day, Boros spoke up again. "I've been wondering," he said languidly. "Why did you insist on becoming Master Saitama's disciple?"

Genos' pose straightened up a little more. "Why did _you_ insist on becoming his servant?" he asked back with a strain in his voice.

"Obviously because I saw his immense strength. He gained my respect and my devotion. I can grow stronger still. If I train myself, I can challenge him to a rematch. You on the other hand…" He let his condescending look sweep over the cyborg. "You won't gain anything from his teachings."

"That's not true," the cyborg said. "Ever since I've started studying under Sensei, I've learned so much–"

"Ah, yes. Useful things such as the nutritional value of every one of his meals." Boros sneered with a grin, showing off his teeth.

"How…!" Genos' eyes widened momentarily before his expression changed to something murderous. "You had no right to read my notebooks!"

Boros shrugged. "They were just lying around and I wasn't aware that they belonged to you. Be assured, I won't touch them again. They contain nothing but useless information either way."

He could hear a faint rattling as the cyborg shook with rage. "You're wrong. It's–"

Boros really couldn't care less why Genos was collecting this kind of information. "What do you hope to gain from this teacher-student-relationship?" he asked instead.

"I will become stronger," Genos said defiantly.

"That would make sense if both of you worked with energy-based attacks. I don't know what your fighting style is, but Master Saitama uses pure physical strength to beat his opponents. You must know that there is nothing he can help you with. A robot cannot become stronger through muscle training."

Genos was seething, placing the hand that had been missing for the past three days flat over his chest. "I'm a cyborg, not a robot."

The remark made Boros scoff. "How does that make any difference? It doesn't matter if there are parts of flesh and blood beneath your metal exterior. Your body is for the most part robotic. You cannot gain physical strength."

"I know that," the cyborg said through gritted teeth. "And Saitama-sensei is aware of that as well. He isn't teaching me muscle training. That doesn't mean he can't give me important lessons in other ways."

"You do realize that he doesn't even know how this relationship benefits you either? He admitted as much when I asked him earlier," Boros said, fixing him with a level gaze.

"I…"

"Honestly, I don't see why you are keeping up this farce. If you asked him whether you could stay even without being his student, he would probably take pity on you and keep you around. But you should admit to yourself that you are holding him back. You are weak and you could never even hope to come close to his level. You cannot act in his stead either. Face it, you'll only ever be in the way and he would have never–"

He dodged the flying kick aimed at his head with ease, landing a few feet away from the furious cyborg. Seeing him so worked up over the truth elicited a grin from Boros. "And you don't even know to pick your fights. You should realize that you are no match for me."

Genos didn't listen, ducking into a fighting stance and holding out his arm in front of himself.

Ah, the overconfidence of the weak.

Curious about what the cyborg could do, Boros waited to see his attack. Soon, the night was illuminated by an orange glow originating from the gaps between the joints on Genos' chest and arm. It actually looked vaguely similar to the way Boros' own veins could change color. Intriguing.

"Incinerate," Genos said and a stream of flames emerged from a vent in the middle of his palm.

Boros let the fire wash over himself, just flaring up his own aura enough to make sure it wouldn't touch him. The warmth was actually rather pleasant. A few last flickers of the flames illuminated the cyborg's face, showing how tense his jaw was, until they too died down and the only remaining bright spots were the eyes under tightly knit eyebrows.

"I see, so you use long-range fire attacks. Though, are you sure you can't find better augmentations for your systems? I've seen what well-designed robots can do. Some of them fitted weapons with a lot more firepower in bodies even smaller than yours. You are not as efficient as you could be."

"This is hardly all I can do! You haven't seen anything yet!" Genos bit back, crouching down to launch himself at Boros in another physical attack.

Boros chuckled, rushing forward to meet him in a midway clash. He saw Genos' eyes widen at the same moment he noticed the overwhelming energy signature flash up at his side. They were both slammed down into the concrete ground a fraction away from impact.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?"

Boros picked himself up from the rubble, his hand automatically wandering up to his throbbing head. His master didn't look happy. A pang of regret rang through Boros. He hadn't meant for the man to wake up. He probably should have knocked the cyborg out after all.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?!"

"It's 5:37 a.m., Sensei!" Genos replied immediately, in the process of getting up as well. With a narrowed eye, Boros realized that the crater Genos had left in the ground wasn't as deep as his own. Saitama must have held back on his student.

Saitama groaned. "That's not what I… Genos, what are you even doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at your doc's?"

"I came back as soon as my repairs were done!" the student exclaimed hurriedly, tipping his entire upper body until it was about parallel to the ground for whatever reason. "Please forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you!"

Saitama was rubbing his face with his eyes squeezed shut. "Why didn't you just stay at the lab overnight? It would've been fine if you'd come back after getting some sleep. And not at this ungodly hour. Aren't you tired?"

"I rested a little during the repairs," the cyborg assured him.

"Well… fine, but that doesn't explain why you two were trying to beat each other up!"

Boros and Genos exchanged a look, the silence starting to stretch between them, neither quite willing to give an explanation. They didn't have to, thankfully, as Saitama just turned around with a gruff shake of his head. "You know what, never mind. I don't care. Just cut it out already and come back inside." As Boros followed him morosely, he heard him mutter, "It's way too early for this."

Things were… awkward after that. Boros still regretted that he allowed their little discussion to lead to Saitama waking up. Genos at least looked appropriately guilty about it, even if he continued to be a source of annoyance for Boros. They had both declined when Saitama asked them if they wanted to go back to sleep. His master had seemed disbelieving at first but eventually he had just grumbled something annoyed under his breath and burrowed into his own futon again, asleep within minutes.

Which led to Boros sitting alone in the darkness with the cyborg again, both pointedly ignoring the other's existence apart from the occasional scowl that was thrown across the room. After a while, Genos got up quietly to get one of those notebooks of his and sat down at the table to scribble in it furiously. Probably more data nobody needed.

The dim lighting didn't seem to bother him, suggesting that his night vision was probably better than Boros'. While he could see well enough in the dark to move around in it, writing or reading would be impossible for him.

That simple fact shouldn't have bothered him – his night vision served him just fine and it wasn't like he ever _needed_ to write in almost complete darkness! – but somehow, it did.

And while he waited around for his master to wake up, trying not to pay any attention to the cyborg and thinking about what he could do in the meantime, he realized that he had no idea what a servant actually did. Well, of course he knew what _his_ servants had done. Mostly. At least he had a vague idea.

If they weren't assigned any special duties like commanding a small squad of the low-ranking soldiers – something that only happened once they had proven themselves anyway – they were usually tasked with making sure his ship was in perfect working order. Doing repairs and reloading the cannons with ammunition after or during a battle. Fending off intruders. Relaying messages… feeding the crew… cleaning too, probably? Boros usually had other people who gave out the orders to the lowest ranks, but he was pretty sure it was something along those lines.

The problem was, most of those tasks were rather specific and didn't apply to this situation. Saitama didn't own a spaceship to keep in good condition. His house wasn't armed with artillery that needed maintenance. The closest thing to that would have been Genos and Boros was pretty sure that the cyborg didn't count as stationary weaponry that needed to be reloaded. (Though the thought of Genos' reaction if he tried to treat him like a common cannon was amusing enough that he almost wanted to try.)

Preparing food and cleaning were two things he could think of that might be necessary in this apartment. However, the problem with _that_ was that Boros had no experience with either of those tasks. He had never needed to clean anything in his life. And even if he could cook, he didn't even know what human food was made of. Much less how to prepare it to make it edible.

Genos did, however. And without any warning, he got up from the table at some point, put his notebook away (but not without giving Boros a dirty look) and put on a strange, bright pink garment that only covered the front of his body. Then he went in the kitchen to cook.

By then, the sun was drenching the room in bright colors and the way its rays warmed the metal of his armor he had put on again after the trouble with Genos was quite pleasant. Boros kind of looked forward to living on a planet with direct and rather close exposure to a sun.

Saitama woke up only minutes afterwards. Either the man always woke up at the same time or it was a coincidence that his student just happened to start working in the kitchen just then. Though, with a scoff he remembered that Genos kept entire books filled with information like this… so Boros' bet was on option one.

The meal passed with Saitama sitting between Boros and Genos, unbothered by the tension hanging over them.

Genos quickly excused himself afterwards, gathered the futons, stripped them of their sheathings and carried those away. Wanting to do something at least, Boros took the dirty dishes and brought them into the kitchen. He found the other ones from yesterday's meal and placed the new ones next to those. Satisfied that he had been able to make himself useful, he returned to the living room where Saitama was leafing through mostly glossy and rather colorful sheets of paper, sorting them into two separate piles and occasionally cutting out pieces of them. He looked highly focused.

"Do you want me to assist you?" Boros said, stepping closer.

His master looked up at him shortly before returning to his task. "Nah, you probably wouldn't know what to look for."

That was discouraging. Nevertheless, he continued asking, "May I ask what it is you are looking for?"

"Some good deals for the stuff we need. City M is our best option, at least when it comes to futons. There are several stores we can try that shouldn't be too pricey and some of them have a special offer running." He picked up a few of the cut-out pieces of paper from one pile. "These are for general needs. I guess we can pick up some groceries while we're at it, I'm pretty sure I still have a few more coupons for tea and rice."

Boros picked up on one word in particular. "So, this is the 'couponing' you mentioned before?"

"Yeah."

"Forgive my questions, but how exactly does this work?"

"Simple, you collect coupons and if you hand them in at the checkout, they'll reduce the price of the item," Saitama explained while working.

Despite the explanation, Boros still didn't know what it was. But if it really was that simple, he didn't want to ask any more. Maybe he would learn about the purpose of coupons if he saw them in use later.

"Is there anything else I can do?"

Saitama didn't look up from his task. "You can sit down and stop talking."

Boros was bothering him, wasn't he? As quietly as possible, he settled down on the floor and waited. While Saitama continued 'couponing', Genos emerged at some point, holding the futon sheets that were still wet, clearly having been washed.

Giving Boros an exaggeratedly wide berth, he crossed the room and went out of the glass door, hanging the sheets on a weird contraption with multiple strings. When he came back, Boros was a bit surprised to see him walk straight into the kitchen. Shortly afterwards, he heard running water, followed by the cyborg rummaging around. Whatever it was he was doing, it was producing weird clacking noises and caused a fruity smell to spread from the kitchen.

Eventually, Saitama got up with a sigh "I guess that's the best we can get from these. Genos, you ready to head out?"

"In a second, Sensei!"

The man nodded, walking over to his cupboard and dressing in clothes similar to the ones he had changed to yesterday after getting home.

"We're going shopping?" the cyborg asked when he came out of the kitchen a minute later.

"Well, yeah, Boros needs some stuff if he's gonna stay here," Saitama said, his voice somewhat strained, strolling out of the living room while he grabbed the pile with all the cut out pieces of paper and some leaflets in the process.

When he was just in the hallway, Genos looked back at Boros. "But we can't leave him here alone. Remember what you promised Child Emperor?"

Boros was about to state that there wouldn't be a problem, when Saitama said, "Right, I thought we were gonna take him with us."

At that, the cyborg frowned. "Sensei… what about the citizens? I could go and buy what we need. Or I'll stay and watch him if you want to go yourself."

"Oh, come on, it's gonna be fine. Besides, he has to tag along if we want to find some fitting clothes for him." Saitama patted his student's shoulder. "One of us can go to the busier stores alone, so he can stay outside, if that makes you happy."

The cyborg sighed. "Alright."

Saitama nodded, then he turned around and looked at Boros with a raised eyebrow. "Well, you coming or what?"

"Of course." Boros hastily got up to follow his master and the cyborg student. The fresh air outside was very welcome.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, would you look at that. Boros found out that cyborgs do have buttons after all and he promptly pushed them all.

Sorry about the delay. I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything fanfic-related in October, but I ended up having significantly less free time in November than I expected. I couldn't even bring myself to reply to comments earlier, because I get irrationally nervous about it and I had to conserve my energy for university stuff. But they were all appreciated and you guys certainly cheered me up when I was busy with boring theory work!

Next chapter will get posted on the 27th, that's a promise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

People were staring. It wasn't too surprising, considering that Boros towered over them all. He could easily look over the crowd to see all the heads turning in his direction, the fingers they pointed at him. On top of that, he was much more colorful than they were. There were a few humans that didn't have hair in a shade between brown and black, but colors like pale yellow, red, blue or purple were extremely rare. Not to mention that their skin color didn't vary much either. A dark brown, bordering on black, was the most extreme variation he had seen so far.

His master didn't seem to realize how much he stood out. He was arguing with a woman working in the building they entered to buy one of those futons. There were long shelves with lots of soft objects inside, from pillows in various sizes and forms to all sorts of blankets, and another area filled with different types of beds, most of them exhibiting a frame that kept them higher above the ground than the futons Boros had come to know.

They had split up a little earlier. His master had sent Genos off with a couple of coupons to buy other things they would need from a shop called a supermarket, while Saitama had taken Boros to this one. They were supposed to meet the cyborg once they were done, but it turned out that buying a bed took longer than expected.

Saitama jabbed his finger on the sheet of paper in his hand. "It says here in your flyer that it's 15% off on mattresses the entire week!"

"Uh… no… I mean, yes, there is…" The woman barely got out a sensible response. She was too busy throwing glances at Boros. It was needless to say that the argument was a little one-sided.

"Then why can't you add the discount on this?" Saitama pushed the clear plastic bag containing a thin, rolled-up mattress as well as a pillow and a blanket into her face, which helped her refocus her attention on him.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the discount doesn't apply to futons…"

"But it has a mattress!" Saitama argued.

"The… uhm… it's only for those that are bought separately. Not… complete item sets." Another glance in Boros' direction and his eye twitched.

"Well, then check the items separately. We'll pay the full price for the blanket and pillow and get the discount on the mattress. Where's the problem?"

The woman fidgeted. "I can't do that, it's against policy."

"You can't just print offers like that and then don't go through with it!" His master was extremely agitated. It was justified, since they had gone through another store before this one that didn't have any beds in Boros' size. And even this futon was only one of two custom ones. And, as a horrified Saitama had pointed out, that made it more expensive than usual.

"But we actually mentioned it in the flyer…"

This woman was not only stubborn but it sounded like she was trying to scam his master. Boros stepped forward, his energy flaring just a little, despite it being dampened by his limiter. He was intent on showing her what happened if someone wanted to steal from Saitama, but his master's outstretched arm held him back, even as the woman's eyes grew wide and she scrambled back as far as the small cubicle allowed.

"Hey, Boros, chill. I've got this," he said, not taking his eyes off the blanching woman.

"Saitama, this woman is trying to–"

He looked over his shoulder at Boros with a small frown. "Just because you don't like someone doesn't mean you get to attack them. Actually, you can add that to the 'no killing' rule." Saitama kept the eye contact just long enough to get a grudging nod from Boros before he turned his head back around again. "Look, is there anything I could–"

"I'm sorry, I'll give you the discount!" the vendor exclaimed shrilly, reaching for the futon roll under Saitama's arm.

"Huh? You will?" His face lit up at once and he handed the item over. "Thanks! You're a lifesaver!"

She ran a red laser scanner over it and hurriedly punched something into the machine in front of her. Saitama paid the price she told him and they left the building after he told Boros to carry the futon. Once they were outside, his master studied the small slip of paper she had handed him thoroughly.

"Woah, look at that! She took the 15% off the whole thing, not just the mattress!" Saitama cheered and looked up at Boros with a grin. "See? If you're nice to people, they do nice things for you in return."

Boros just grunted in response, not wanting to contradict him.

"Ah, look, there's Genos." He waved at the cyborg waiting at the corner with a bag in his hand. When he noticed them, he came up to meet them. "You got everything?"

"Yes, Sensei. Was there any trouble on your end? I expected you would be back a lot earlier."

"No, everything's fine." Saitama waved him off. "Well, we had to go to a different store and then we had a discussion about the discount, but the shop assistant was really helpful and bent the rules a little."

"That's great, Sensei!" Genos answered with a smile.

Saitama hummed, looking up and down the street. "We just need to find a clothes store now." After a skeptical look at Boros, he added, "Preferably one that sells some in your size."

Genos frowned. "Do you have enough money? I can pay for–"

But Saitama shook his head quickly, his cheeks turning a bit red. "Geez, Genos, it's fine. I can pay for it myself. I'm not _that_ broke."

The unhappy look the cyborg gave him when he walked off told Boros that his student didn't think so. Boros wondered if there wasn't anything that could be done about the money situation that wouldn't necessarily involve tributes as he followed his master into the first store, but he couldn't come up with anything. They soon exited the building again when they realized there was not a single piece of clothing that would fit him.

They continued like this, visiting several shops and not finding anything useable. By now, Boros had already figured out that humans loved their clothing, but… this was really a bit overwhelming. So many clothes in all kinds of sizes, forms, colors, patterns… and they all seemed to have a different purpose, too! Entire stores full of clothes! Some of them sorting their products by gender and use into clear sections that spread over multiple floors! It was pure insanity.

They eventually found something in a specialty store, though it wasn't clothing. It was a female human with long black hair, her face painted with purple lines. Unlike most other females they had come across, she was wearing pants.

Boros wouldn't have paid her any mind if she hadn't whipped her head around to stare at them with wide eyes when they encountered her between two isles.

"Saitama!" she yelled immediately, pointing her finger at the man. A wide grin quickly spread across her face. "You have no idea how much I was looking forward to this! Our encounter must be fate! Prepare yourself! Today will be the day you will meet your maker!"

So, she knew his master. And she was an enemy.

"Oh, hey Panic."

"It's Speed o' Sound _Sonic_, you asshole! Are you even trying anymore?!"

At this point, Boros started to suspect that his master was just not bothering with names. Admittedly, it was disrespectful, but then again, he was powerful enough to take the liberty of just not caring.

Anyway, this woman was intruding on their shopping activities. This could not be tolerated. Boros scowled and stepped forward. "Master Saitama has no time to deal with petty challenges. If you value your life, you should leave."

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back and planting a hand on her hip. "And who the fuck are you?"

"I am Lord Boros and I will not let a small fry like you pester my master."

"Small fry?" Sonic casually pulled a sword from her back, holding it in front of her with a toothy grin on her face. "Say that again, I dare you!"

"Guys, stop. People are starting to stare at us," Saitama said with a sigh, pushing Boros aside. "You can't start a fight in a store, they'll throw us all out."

"I know you," Genos said slowly, studying Sonic intently. "You are that pervert from City J. So you are that annoying stalker Saitama-sensei mentioned. What do you want with him?"

"I'm be the one who will kill him right now!"

She rushed ahead with a speed Boros hadn't expected. He reacted just in time to grab the sword with his free hand before it could touch his master, effectively halting it, and pushed back against it, hitting Sonic in the stomach with the hilt. She skidded backwards until she crashed into a clothing rack.

"Boros!" Saitama said, sounding panicked as he stepped in front of him. "You can't do that! You might destroy something and they'll charge us for it!"

Boros blinked. "Ah. I'm sorry, Saitama. I didn't think of that…" With that in mind, he quickly healed the cut in his hand before he got blood onto any of the clothes.

"Ugh…" Sonic was untangling herself from the clothes she had taken down with her, glaring daggers at Boros. "What's your deal, Baby Blue? This has nothing to do with you! Stay out of it!"

A small knife came flying at him a second later and he caught it in his hand. "I won't allow you to bother Master Saitama any further."

"Both of you, stop it. You're going to get innocents injured," Genos tried to intervene.

Sonic completely ignored him. She addressed Saitama instead and jabbed a thumb in Boros' direction. "This guy keeps calling you his master, what's up with that? Is that weirdo your butler or what?"

"Something like that."

"How come someone like you picks up a follower like that?"

"He… uh… kind of followed me home."

Sonic snorted. "Well, tell your new pet and your robot to stay out of things that don't concern them!"

"E-excuse me…" a meek voice behind them spoke up. It was a male that appeared to be not quite fully grown yet. Judging by the logo on his shirt, he worked at this store. He was also sweating profusely. Boros wrinkled his nose.

When he found four pairs of eyes on himself, the boy shrank back, raising his hands. "C-could you, I mean… this is a clothing store and– I'm sorry, but I-I need to a-ask you to–"

He abruptly cut off and threw himself to the ground with a shriek. Sonic had used the opportunity to lunge at Saitama's turned back again, but he just stuck out his hand to grab the purple garment around her neck and used it to fling her out of the store's entrance. She went flying right over the employee's head and landed in one of the buildings on the other side of the street in a cloud of dust.

Outside the store, people started to shout and panic. Inside, Saitama was rubbing his forehead. "What's this guy's problem anyway? He always wants to cause trouble."

"I will take care of him at once and make sure he is put back in prison where he belongs," Genos announced, ready to march out of the store.

"Isn't that just a waste of time? I mean, he'll probably just break out again anyway."

Genos came to a halt and nodded slowly. "That is true, they seemed to have trouble holding him. In that case, I will make sure he won't be able to cause trouble ever again."

"Genos," Saitama sounded strained. "Not you too! I'm trying to set some rules and boundaries with Boros! Could you at least try not to make him think it's okay to go around killing people?"

"I was just going to–"

"No, just leave it. It's not worth the headache. Besides, I don't think he'll start anything else today. Come on, let's go, there are still some stores we can check."

At this point, Boros had completely blocked out their discussion. Something else had registered in his mind when they started talking and it left him rather dumbstruck. They had addressed Sonic as 'he,' which meant, as mind-boggling as it was… that Sonic was a man as well?! Amai Mask, he could see as a male, now that it had been pointed out to him, but this one? What about her– _his_ body shape and the face paint and the delicate features and… ugh, humans were so confusing!

"What are you standing around for? Come on."

When he realized that Saitama was already outside and Genos waited for him with a dark look on his face, Boros quickly shook off his stupor and hurried after his master. Maybe he should start asking every human he encountered about their gender first.

"Ma- Saitama, what did this idiot even want from you? How do you know each other?" he asked as soon as he had caught up, walking half a step behind him.

"Ah, I dunno, he's a little weird. He mistook me for someone else that one time, then he declared himself my rival and now he shows up from time to time to challenge me. It can be a bit annoying, but he's usually satisfied if I play with him for a minute, so it's not too bad."

His… his… Boros' thoughts came to a complete stop for the second time in mere minutes, before they ran at twice the speed. "Your _rival_?! That weakling?" it burst out of him.

That was just absurd. Rivals were supposed to be on equal, or at least near equal footing. How else would you be able to engage in a competition if one party was leagues above the other? There would be no challenge at all. Even Boros himself claiming to be Saitama's rival would be a bit of a stretch, let alone this pushover.

"Hey, don't be like that," Saitama told him casually. "I'm pretty sure he was faster than last time. He must've trained since then. You gotta give him credit for that. He's really determined to beat me."

And his master didn't even see the problem with the situation. This Sonic idiot could train all he wanted and he still wouldn't stand a chance. Admittedly, Boros technically wanted to train for the same reason, but at least he had reasonable potential to work with. And he didn't delude himself about his chances of actually winning a rematch.

"Are you really sure that it's alright to let him be? I don't mean any disrespect, but to me it sounds like it would be less bothersome to kill him than to let him continue," he argued, itching to wipe out this pest.

"I already told you not to worry about it. He's harmless."

Boros sighed. "I am aware of that…" Resigning himself for inaction, he wondered how the same man that had reawakened his joy for battle could be this infuriating.

"You need to stop being so protective. You can't attack everyone who doesn't like me. You'd never get done," Saitama then said with a smirk thrown over his shoulder. Then his expression changed to a thoughtful one and he turned around to walk backwards for a bit while he glanced between Boros and Genos. When he turned back, he added, "Now that I think about it, you two are actually pretty similar in a lot of ways."

The perfectly in synch answer of "We are not!" as well as the matching glare at each other didn't help their case at all. Boros huffed and looked away over the crowd of people. Comparing him to that walking scrap metal. Did his master _want_ to insult him?

Saitama just laughed quietly at them. "Sure you are. You're overprotective and quick to attack people you don't like, you talk way too damn much and use stupidly complicated words, I got stuck with you even though I said no…"

At that, Genos' indignation dissolved and he hung his head. The "I'm sorry, Sensei," was soft-spoken.

"And you keep apologizing for everything. You both need to stop taking everything so seriously and not be so uptight. Especially around me. There's no need to be all… respectful with me."

No, Saitama was just too lax in his interactions with them. Honestly, he spoke to a student and a servant, but from the way he was talking with them, an outsider might think they were equals when nothing could be further from the truth. All three of them were on different levels entirely.

But it wouldn't help to argue about such matters in public, so Boros kept his mouth shut and followed Saitama into another clothing store where he was instructed to try on more strange garments. Maybe he could bring up the issue in private. Saitama seemed willing to listen to him despite his status, so there was the possibility that he could use that to talk some sense into him.

When they left the store to finally head home, they were carrying several newly purchased clothes. Boros was not looking forward to wearing them.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter ready. There's a bunch of other stuff I should write as soon as possible, so this story needs to take a bit of a backseat for a little while. So, I guess a realistic estimate would be late December or January.


End file.
